


figure me out

by nofirstdraft



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, lipsoul & 2jin extremely peripheral
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 06:35:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 45,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26348704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nofirstdraft/pseuds/nofirstdraft
Summary: jiwoo and sooyoung are neighbors. their paths rarely cross. until they do.
Relationships: Ha Sooyoung | Yves/Kim Jiwoo | Chuu, Jeon Heejin/Kim Hyunjin, Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul & Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip
Comments: 56
Kudos: 179





	1. prologue. last day of the semester. 19:09

_i don’t know a thing about it all i want is real real love…_

The breeze felt soft. The setting sun glowed, the day slowing to evening. It was that selfless time, a time to be beholden to nature, a time for chilled beers and long talks, a time to look and to think. Simple and perfect.

Jiwoo leaned out of her window, arms resting over the metal frame. She let her eyes slip shut and listened to the quiet. Notes from the city, just out of reach, creeping through. The semester breathed its last breaths but the world carried on outside.

She was excited to be in it.

“Jiwoo?” The voice fluttered with laughter, catching her at peace. She opened her eyes, unbothered and turned her attention below.

He lifted the plastic bag in his hand, weighed heavy with cheap beer. “You staying for…”

He nodded up toward the roof with a sly smile.

“Yeah.”

“Cool…see you up there.”

Jiwoo turned back to her dorm room, packed away for the summer. A bed frame, an empty desk, the wardrobe stocked only with the hangers she wasn’t taking back with her. It felt strange seeing it stripped to its bare bones, no more personality.

Next semester someone else would come along, someone like her maybe, anxious and excited with old posters and new bedding. They’d talk too much to their roommate, scare them a little, then become inseparable.

For a year she’d called it home. She’d miss it.

The bass of a loudspeaker shook the room, the leftover hangers swinging from side to side. The party had officially begun. Jiwoo locked the window, crossed into the bathroom quickly to check herself over. She'd decided on a casual look, just jeans and a sweater, nothing fancy. Once she’d fixed her bangs, a nudge or two to each side with her middle finger, she made her way up.

The students that had opted to stay inside lined the hallways, tipping their solo cups at Jiwoo as she passed by, a cheers to making it through the year.

There was a cup in her hand the moment she made it up, transparent, the foam hissing as it bounced around. Jiwoo assumed it was champagne or a cheap knockoff, she took a sip and it was sweet and coated her tongue. The bubbles went straight to her head, a contentedness settling, telling her she was a little buzzed.

The party was a sigh, no one was looking to get wasted or hook up, the wave of the year had crested, now it was relaxing on shore. It was a chance to say goodbye and actually say it.

Jiwoo gravitated toward the smokers, huddled in one corner like they usually were, a mixture of cigarettes and a couple of joints being passed around. Jiwoo always seemed to end up settling with them, a force of habit maybe.

“Jiwoo! You smoking tonight?”

She had joined them once or twice, now they always asked, surprisingly happy to share.

She shook her head, “Not tonight, no.”

The joint passed along to the next person, each of them letting the smoke out the side of their mouth to be polite. “Just enjoying the view?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, if you change your mind…”

Jiwoo smiled, “Thanks."

It was the same pattern every time. _I’m good. Okay, well, if you change your mind._

They drifted back to their conversation and Jiwoo took in the view, a moment to herself. The city stretched for miles then disappeared into the horizon, the clouds were thin like mist and the blue had degraded as night took over. The sun was barely visible, a footprint of orange in the sky.

It reminded her of home, of her childhood, of staring up at the sky and feeling small, feeling her stomach zing and fizz like it contained a storm, not knowing why she felt so excited. It reminded her of middle school, of walking home with friends, singing uninhibited, face turned up to the sun, thinking she knew exactly what her future held.

The breeze picked up and smoke mixed with the evening air, drifting toward her, secondary inhalation, and she was reminded of high school. At her desk, eyes heavy with sleep, looking up at the stars and feeling insignificant, worried for her future and that smoke, thick and languid, rolling in…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [been watching skam and thinking of updating in that style. so real time updates. if something happens at 1am it'll be uploaded at 1am, something at 9pm will go up at 9pm. you get the picture.
> 
> real time updates = expect updates to start mid to late november.]
> 
> hope u enjoy and stay safe everyone #wearurmask.


	2. THURSDAY 18:33

ACT I: ONE DAY I WILL BE A CAR

Jiwoo once read that if you create spaces between the food on your plate, it made it look like you’d eaten something. She drilled potholes in her salad and cut her salmon into pieces that she scattered. She caught a piece of spinach between two prongs and danced it around the disaster she’d made, a show she thought had an audience of one until she flicked her gaze over the table and saw her Mom watching.

When they ate together, Jiwoo was being monitored.

The table was small and circular, technically there were no sides but put a lamp on it and she was basically being interrogated. Except there was no good cop or bad cop, just two quietly concerned cops.

Her Mom didn’t say anything just stared at her plate and pursed her lips, enough to let Jiwoo know she knew what she was doing. Her Dad was too tired to engage. He’d dragged himself home from work just to sit in silence with his sad daughter, see her avoid eating the food he’d wearily prepared. Her fork raked the bottom of her plate as she tried to make another well. It was accidental but it disrupted the silence enough for Jiwoo to make her escape. The unasked questions were swirling around them, it was only a matter of time before they came to the forefront.

“I think I’m gonna go upstairs…. work I have to finish.”

Her Mom eyed her plate again, then conceded with a nod. Jiwoo swept the full meal, shredded to pieces, into the trash, and stacked the empty plate in the dishwasher. Her cutlery rattled as she dropped it into the basket, a signal that she was almost gone, and her Dad spoke up from behind her.

“Jiwoo,” he said her name delicately, twisting in his chair to be direct, “we’re very proud of you.”

He thought he was helping, and Jiwoo forced out a final appreciative smile before for she retreated to her room. They could talk about her once she was gone.

She needed to be alone.


	3. THURSDAY 22:45

She hadn’t noticed how dark her room had become. She’d got lost down the YouTube rabbit hole and it had turned to night in an instant. She clicked her desk lamp on and blinked until her eyes adjusted to the light. Her evening had slipped away, hours had passed by and she’d been fixed in place like a ghost. She couldn’t reconcile herself with the girl she’d been just that morning.

One grade on one report card and her whole world had collapsed. It started as confusion, she’d never been given an F before, then indignation, she was a straight A student, she’d never not been a straight A student and by lunch she’d resigned to the fact she’d failed. Around the cafeteria table her friends followed the same cycle: assuring her it was a mistake, telling her to challenge her teacher, have her work checked again, they didn’t accept defeat as easily as she had. She wasn’t sure whether it was because they believed in her or because they were scared by how her shoulders had dropped. Everyone that knew, her friends and her parents, acted the same way, defiantly telling her it must be a mistake, they couldn’t accept she wasn’t the picture of perfection.

Her phone came to life as she turned it over, the home screen decorated with notifications, friends checking in, asking how she was. She didn’t even have the energy to reply. It was like a dimmer switch had been fixed to her brain and dialed all the way down. She stared at her keyboard, willing her brain to conjure up something she could watch to while away the hours, until she became so tired she’d fall straight to sleep. Her hands were still frozen, all she could feel was boredom and the chill drifting in from her open window and something else.

Smoke.

Jiwoo looked out, across to her neighbor’s house, the window directly opposite her own. Their houses were detached but had the same design, a room at the top with a window that protruded out of the roof, perfectly flat on top. For the past four years it had become Ha Sooyoung’s designated smoking spot. She was right on schedule, peeking out of the dark in the fluorescence leaking from the streetlight nearby, hugging her legs, smoking a joint in the same grey hoodie.

When Sooyoung first moved in, Jiwoo’s parents told her their new neighbor had a daughter her age, and their grand idea to make the neighborhood a community had them assuming they would become best friends. But Sooyoung was quiet and went to a different middle school and by the time high school rolled around it was clear they were different people. Jiwoo was still having sleepovers when she first saw Sooyoung climbing out of her window, down the trellis and into a car, guys and girls crammed together yelling over a thumping bass.

In Sophomore year she started sneaking out more. She already looked like a senior. She’d use their gate to avoid detection, pushing through loose panels in the fence that swung open and shut like saloon doors. Sooyoung was kind of a cowboy; stoic, on the periphery, passing judgement on everyone. At school she’d rest against lockers and stretch out on windowsills, always looking upwards and outwards until her attention was shifted, her hard gaze landed on something. Jiwoo had been victim to it, talking to a friend between classes, she’d felt eyes on her and found Sooyoung. She offered a polite smile, got nothing back and returned to her conversation. It was brief but Sooyoung had glanced her with heavy eyes, barely parted lips and a slight crease in her brow, that was enough for Jiwoo to understand why her friends preferred to talk about her rather than to her.

All she heard was rumors, what her friends had heard from other classmates. No one really seemed to know Sooyoung. She didn’t share anything; her Instagram posts were sparse, and she never had captions, maybe an emoji sometimes. She used to be tagged in the same dance videos as friends but that stopped at the end of Junior year. She was above it all, waiting for graduation, so she could finally leave. Jiwoo could see her disappearing, moving away for college and forever. She wondered if Sooyoung would come back for Christmas, if she’d ever see her again after high school.

The tip of her joint glowed amber and a plume of smoke quickly followed, only a matter of time before it would reach Jiwoo. She leaned over, shut her window, lifting the handle to secure it. There was a song she heard whenever she saw Sooyoung smoking. In her car, after school, on her roof, wherever she was, Jiwoo would begin to hear it. She drew her curtains closed, let Sooyoung enjoy the rest of her night unobserved.

Her bed sheets were cold against her cheek and she shifted on top of the covers until her body relaxed. The song was resting near the top of her recently played, the opening notes crept in. Her eyes squeezed closed and she hoped the music would be enough to drown out the only thought she’d had since first period.

_Failure. You’re a failure._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen along with Jiwoo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l_aOpLPd3Uo


	4. FRIDAY 15:35

Sooyoung hated smoking in the winter. She didn’t like the cold. It made her fingers freeze up, sometimes she’d lose feeling entirely and fumble a cigarette, stare at it longingly lying on the ground. She hunched her shoulders and exhaled in a steady stream. It could be mesmerizing, how the smoke clouded then disappeared to nothing. For those few seconds she was a long, drawn out breath. Then it faded and she was back, staring into an empty park, sitting on a picnic table that hadn’t been refurnished in years.

She supposed she should be grateful it was empty, she could sit with Jungeun and Jinsol, smoke and talk until they decided on plans for the night. Occasionally students would pass by, use the path and cut through to the parking lot. It was free of charge so everyone at school used it as overflow when they were late and missed out on the premium spots.

They started going there Sophomore year. Sooyoung had wanted to smoke but she was driving her Mom’s car at the time. Jinsol was in the same situation, traded days with her Dad and didn’t want him taking away her privileges and Jungeun had only just passed. She was always resolute in what she wanted, it was hard to convince her to do anything, smoking in her new car was a lost cause but they still tried it. They dragged their feet through the park, promising to roll down the windows, when she pointed to the table just to get them off her back. They accepted and sat, Jinsol and Jungeun chose the bench and Sooyoung perched on table above them, resting her feet beside them both , sharing a cigarette with Jinsol. When she sparked her lighter on a second, Jinsol hummed and mentioned that it was nice, quietly existing alongside everything else.

They fell into a near daily routine.

“…My parents are out tonight.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… a dinner party I think.”

“So let’s go to yours.”

Sooyoung ran her hands up and down her arms, trying to warm herself. She’d worn enough layers, stacked a denim jacket on top of her t-shirt and a thick wool coat on top of that but the winter air was icy.

“Sooyoung?”

She wanted to be inside.

“Sooyoung!”

Her friends were staring expectantly. Neither of them had dressed for the weather, Jungeun was stuck in her track jacket which she’d desperately zipped all the way to her chin and Jinsol’s beanie was just resting on the back of her head, more of a fashion choice then a comfort choice, it matched her leather jacket. They were pressed together, arms linked to keep warm.

Jinsol filled the silence, “Can you hang out tonight?”

And Jungeun filled in the details, “We’re gonna watch a movie.”

She wanted to say yes, go to Jungeun’s, sink into the couch and while away a couple hours. There was nothing she loved more than when the credits rolled and they all finally unleashed their questions and comments which Jungeun confidently answered and which Jinsol immediately corrected, pulling up reviews and explainers on her phone. They would argue, Jungeun refusing to back down and Jinsol asking how she could possibly think she was more correct than a journalist. 

But she had lost the privilege of hanging out with her friends on weekdays when her Mom saw her report card. Sooyoung had argued a Friday was barely a weekday but she lost the battle, and her Mom was probably minutes away from pressing send on her message, slowly prodding at each letter with her index, _expect u home by four._ The only hope she really had to see them was the evening, her Mom would be asleep early to prep for having to wake up before five and she’d be able to sneak out, order an Uber. 

If she got to Jungeun’s for eight or nine they’d have watched a movie, maybe two already. The TV screen would be glowing black, and they’d have drifted to their phones, not doing much of anything at all. It would be too calm, too quiet, all she’d have to do was think. And she wasn’t in the mood to think. 

“Can’t we go somewhere, do something?”

“Do what?” Jungeun’s response was quick, brows raised as she looked at her, like she knew Sooyoung had something in mind and was just waiting on her to say it.

“Like go out.” She shrugged, trying to make it seem like a casual suggestion but as soon as the thought had crossed her mind, as soon as she could picture the crowded rooms, imagine the warmth that came from too many people packed into a tight space, the stress leaving her body after one sip of her drink. It was all she wanted.

Jungeun shook her head, eyes fixed on the ground, the small patch of concrete that circled them. “I don’t feel like being around people.”

Sooyoung understood. She had worked out before school, practiced laps at lunch and was always the most reluctant to go out anyway. It usually meant Jinsol was left to make most of the decisions, to break their ties and she was absorbed in Instagram, a faint smile as she double tapped. 

Jungeun nudged her foot, bringing her back to reality. 

“I don’t mind,” she looked between them both, settling on Sooyoung, “want me to look for something?”

She nodded and Jinsol went back to her phone, diving into her DMs. 

Sooyoung was pretty sure she had never once been the one to get them invited anywhere. Jungeun occasionally had something to offer, usually someone from the track team or someone she’d met at a meet and it was always an invitation given to her. Jinsol was the only one capable of reaching out and asking someone what was happening, dropping a message and not getting caught up waiting for a response. Sooyoung didn’t know how she did it, the only person she could message casually was her Mom. Even waiting on Jinsol or Jungeun to reply made her regret sending them anything in the first place.

“Who is that?” Jungeun blocked her view of the screen as she leaned toward Jinsol, reading the messages for herself.

“She’s from Palisades, she’s good.” Jinsol leaned back, looking up at her with a smile, “we’ll find you somewhere safe.”

“Just me?” Her stomach dropped and she kept her eyes fixed on Jinsol, watched her ease turn to conviction as she nodded.

“I’m tired.”

Jinsol knew she hated showing up anywhere alone, knew she’d struggle to talk to anyone without a drink in her hand and knew she needed one of them by her side in order to get through the door and make her way to whatever room the drinks were piled up in. She thought maybe it was test, or a play to get her to agree to their first plans, haul up in her room for a few hours and sneak out to Jungeun’s. 

She looked up to the sky, the blanket of white covering everything. The easiest thing to do would be to just concede.

“Jeon Heejin!”

Jinsol's yell was offensively loud, smashed the peaceful quiet to pieces, making her heart race.  The sky was gone as she whipped her head round, glare at the ready and found Jungeun sheltering her ears, Jinsol's smile spilling into laughter as she took in their reactions.

Her target was cutting across the grass toward them, with another figure trailing a step half behind. 

Their park routine was only a few weeks old when Sooyoung began to notice it intersected with Jiwoo. She’d barely be sat down as Jiwoo sailed along the path, headphones in, completely at peace. They never registered. When she walked with Heejin, she’d copy the nod or wave Heejin would offer first, their animated conversation dipping and peaking again when they thought they were out of range.

They settled beside Jinsol and Jiwoo tucked her hands deep in the pockets of her teddy coat, caught in the in-between of being present but not being involved, on the outskirts of the conversation.

“I’m making a chat, for class.”

Heejin nodded slowly, then paused, “Which one?”

“AP.”

“History? World History?”

“Yeah.”

She didn’t know Heejin that well. Jinsol and Jungeun knew her better, shared more classes with her and never had much to say other than that she was nice. She remembered a moment in Sophomore year when she thought they could get close. Heejin showed up to the first class after Winter Break, took the desk next to her at the back the room and she watched her write out the date, forget the new year had passed, attempt to write over it then give up and start on a new page. It was exactly what she had done minutes earlier. She  thought about her friends and the park and pictured Heejin with them, sat beside Jungeun, complaining about classes. She had wanted to lean over, show her the mistake a page back in her own notebook but realised it would mean calling her name, showing her, admitting she had been staring. She was still in the middle of convincing herself out of it when Heejin's actual friend  scorned her with a bright smile making her pick up her stuff and move to a desk further forward. The image quickly faded back to three.

“WhatsApp’s easier for me, yeah- do you know everyone, do you have their numbers?”

“There’s a couple of people- “

“Ask them in class?”

“Yeah.”

She reminded her of Jinsol, friendly, relaxed, not so intense. It made sense that she was close with Jiwoo, she offset that unbridled energy.

When Sooyoung and her Mom first moved in, Jiwoo delivered them food, a welcome gift from her parents. She trapped her Mom in conversation, talking about how exhausting her own move had been just a year earlier, how her parents had made so much food for them, how she knew she shouldn’t keep her for too long because she was probably tired. Her voice reminded Sooyoung of music, a melody that sticks in your brain, addictive but you’re not sure if you love it or hate it. She listened from the kitchen, the conversation in her hand long forgotten. When Jiwoo finally left, her Mom shut the door and exaggerated a sigh, but her warm smile stayed for the rest of the night and when they sat down to eat, her Mom couldn't help mentioning Jiwoo seemed like a nice girl.

She had that effect on people, they were charmed by her. She was a perfect student, so teachers loved her, she was pocket-sized and energetic, so she reminded most guys of their little sister and she was too innocent for most girls to be threatened by her. She treated everyone the same. Sooyoung would see her in the hallways talking to classmates with undivided attention. She’d nod along, perfect wide smile, bright eyes, laughing loudly and joyously, enough to get everyone’s attention, make them jealous they weren’t the ones with her. It was the type of kindness that made guys who had no luck with girls think they’d found the one. She was shocked Jiwoo had got all the way to Senior year without falling head over heels for some quiet boy who loved X-Men. A perfect boyfriend was all that was missing from her perfect life.

Jiwoo glanced down the bench catching her briefly as Heejin tucked her phone back into her jeans.

“All good?”

“Yeah. Are you out Saturday?”

"I don’t know, maybe.”

"Message if you are.”

“Sure. See you around." Heejin left with a nod and Jiwoo followed, setting back toward the parking lot.

Sooyoung waited for their conversation to take off again, to hear one of their voices cut through the quiet, but nothing came, and she watched their silent figures pull further and further away, rounding the corner and disappearing.

Her hand stung with a sharp heat and she shook it out on instinct, the remnants of her cigarette falling to the floor.  She’d forgotten all about it.

“Send me the address.” They both looked over to her, mirrors of surprise.

Jinsol said what they were both thinking, “You sure?”

“Yeah.” She wasn’t sure at all, but she knew she didn’t want to be home, knew she couldn’t take any questions from her friends about her life right now and there was a chance her desperation might make her brave. 

Her phone buzzed in her coat pocket as Jinsol sent the screenshot her way.

“Don’t be stupid, okay?”

Jungeun nodded along with Jinsol’s friendly warning, offered one of her own. “And don’t drink anything that’s given to you.”

“I won’t.” She knew they were trying to be helpful, but she couldn’t help feeling a little patronized. Sure she wasn’t the best talker, but she could handle herself okay. 

Jinsol and Jungeun both seemed convinced by her reply. Jinsol dropped back to her phone and Jungeun dropped back to watching her on it.

She walked herself through her plan for the night, suffering through that first hour where her Mom would be checking in on her, making her finish at least one assignment and then she'd leave her alone, prepare for work and it would just be her with the address, the party, she'd quietly get ready and sneak out. 

It felt good having something to look forward to. 


	5. SATURDAY 13:20

“Sooyoung?”

The knocking pulsed in her head, trying to escape out her temples, stinging behind her eyes.

“Sooyoung?”

Again. A tight coil wrapped around her brain. She massaged her forehead, pressing her palms deep, trying to erase the pain away. Slowly her room came into focus, the edge of her pillow, the corner of her nightstand, one of her boots, toppled over on the carpet. She brushed her foot along her leg, cotton on denim and came to quick conclusion that she’d taken off her shoes but not her socks and she was still wearing her jeans. 

Every hangover made her question whether the night before was worth it. She went from feeling free, to feeling like a child again, hugging her pillow, wishing someone would bring her food and water, stroke her hair and tell her she was gonna be okay.

“Sooyoung?” The room rattled. She could picture her Mom, head resting on the door, rolling her eyes with each unanswered called.

Her voice crawled out from the bottom of her throat, low and hoarse. “Yeah.”

“I’m out until the evening, I’m getting groceries on the way home… Did we hear me, is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

“And are we emerging this afternoon?”

“Yeah.”

Her bottom lip was rough and tasted sour. She rested her eyes and inhaled deep through her nose. Her pillow was soft. She let her breath out slowly. It was a reset, a new day. She needed a shower, she needed water and she needed aspirin, a lot of it. 

The car turned, eating the blue line to her house as it cruised down the road. The ticker following above folded over. Her delivery was ten minutes away. She really wanted that ramen.

She locked her phone and dropped it, aiming for the couch and instead hitting Jinsol's outstretched legs, earning herself a sharp heel to the thigh.

“I’m sensitive.” She rolled her head to the side, trying to get some sympathy and failing. 

"That’s your own fault." Jinsol looked up, her phone was a beacon, lighting her from below like she about to tell a ghost story at a slumber party. She dropped her eyes back to her screen, kept her voice quiet but clearly loud enough Sooyoung could hear her. “Lightweight.”

She glared at her for a second, giving up when she realised Jinsol wasn’t going to look back and leaned the other side, settling her head on the armrest. 

It had been a while since Jinsol had called her that, _lightweight._ She’d first coined it the summer of Freshman Year, when she took her home from a barbecue after she drank too much of something sparkling and lost her ability to stand up straight. It was still light out when Jinsol dropped her into her bed and lay down beside her. The next thing it was the morning, she was pulling herself to sitting, lying her head on Jinsol’s shoulder and apologizing. Jinsol told her it was fine, told her to watch herself and told her she didn’t realise she was such a lightweight.

She didn’t argue against it at the time even though she disagreed, and she was still sure the only reason it happened was because she was days away from Fusion’s weeklong summer intensive. She was so stressed out about it she had barely slept, barely eaten and whatever she drank that day went straight to her head. But Jinsol swore by the name, swore that it took half the amount of alcohol to get her twice as drunk and enough evidence had collected over the years to support it, nights where she was three drinks in and already swaying.

Including the night before. It was around eight-thirty when the message came through. Jinsol and Jungeun asking if she was out already. She replied that she was just leaving, had an Uber on the way, both lies to cover for the fact that she had chickened out, had her laptop propped on her stomach and was halfway through a movie. They messaged that they’d meet her there and she didn’t ask why they’d changed their minds, just pushed off her bed and swept up the outfit she’d hopelessly dropped on the floor an hour earlier.

She met them outside and watched them cycle through the same reaction she had five minutes earlier, realizing they weren’t looking at three attached houses but one property that stretched to take up a quarter of the street all for itself. Jinsol compared it to The Sims, and Sooyoung shared a disbelieving laugh with Jungeun before they walked the narrow path to the front door. Inside they were saved by a stranger, sweating through his dark blue shirt, who noticed them looking around a little cluelessly and pointed toward the back of the house, shouting _there’s a bar._ His instructions were good, and they found the oak counter in a games room, where the party had thinned and there were clusters playing pool and crowding round a couple of refurnished arcade machines. Jinsol explained the girl hosting was from some kind of real estate dynasty over their first drink and by the time Sooyoung was snapping off the cap of her second beer she was able to keep talking to the girl who leaned over the bar, pulled back, looked at her bottle, then looked at her and asked _where’d you get that?_

That was the one positive of being a lightweight, it only took one drink to get her confidence up, she just wished it had stayed. 

“Hey.” Jinsol’s heels bounced in her lap again. “Hey.”

“What?” She shut her eyes tighter, hoping Jinsol could sense the annoyance in her voice. 

She’d seen their messages – sent way to early - asking to come over and replied with a _sure_ , left a key under the doormat and told them she was showering, they could let themselves in. She assumed they’d be in bad way too, or at least share her low energy. They were neither. 

They found her in the living room, curtains drawn, a couple of standing lamps switched on, curled up on the couch. Jinsol laughed and said _why do you look like a vampire right now?_ as she fell next to her. They were fully dressed, fresh and unwilling to sit in the dark. Jungeun pulled the curtain wide, the afternoon sun flooding in and she curled up more, making Jinsol laugh again, _she actually is a vampire_ , while she shifted to the other side of the couch and stretched her legs out. She negotiated a deal, offered to buy food if they drew the curtains over a little and they agreed. Jungeun pulled them back and sat on carpet, resting her back against the couch and basking in the small slither of natural light that was allowed in. 

“You need to look at this.” 

She peeled her eyes open, found Jinsol smiling at her screen, tapping through something.

“What is it?” 

“Look,” Jinsol passed her phone over, open on Snapchat, a story already playing. “Something happened in the bathroom.” She tried to stifle her laughter, watching, waiting for Sooyoung to see.

She wasn’t particularly interested in whatever the story was. A party and a bathroom and drama could only end up in one place. And that was exactly where it seemed to. The story was close-up after close-up after close-up of porcelain, stained, and whoever had taken the pictures was mad, followed them with a long message - white text on a black background – that capitalized the important words. FURIOUS. DISGUSTED. 

It was everything else she wanted to look at, the rest of the party, and Jinsol's phone was her best bet she had practically the entire West Coast in her contacts. 

“Did you see it?” She could hear Jinsol’s smile as she tapped through the night from another perspective.

“Yeah, gross.” 

She replayed a video from the living room, crammed full of untucked shirts and short dresses, dancing beside a disco light that switched colors with the beat and she finally found what she was looking for. Herself, just for a second, leaning against the back wall and talking to a girl. She replayed it, saw herself again, in her dark cropped cami with her beer hanging between two fingers. Her stomach clutched, she felt nauseous.

“Can I see it?” Jungeun looked up over her shoulder and she nodded, tossed it into her lap. 

She thought seeing the party from anther perspective might instill some of the ease she used to feel during those few hours. Freshman, Sophomore, even early Junior Year she’d have genuine fun at them, she’d be nervous at first but find her feet and end up talking to classmates she’d never spoken to before and upperclassmen that were nice enough she didn’t feel so intimidated by them back in the hallways. She never had it in her to approach anyone, but people would come up to her and sometimes it would be nothing more than a light chat, sometimes it would be more. Not much more, she’d only ended up in someone else’s bed a few times, could count how many on one hand, but it was enough to know she’d rather keep it kosher, make out then get out before the party ended, before they could ask her if she wanted to go somewhere else. Still no matter what happened, whether she was waking up at Jinsol’s, Jungeun’s, in her own bed or in a bed she’d never been in before, wide eyed and desperately messaging Jinsol to come rescue her, she enjoyed it, it made her feel like a regular person, it never made her feel regretful. Not like it did now. 

“They had to clean all of it?” Jungeun was tapping through, not getting much enjoyment from the drama.

Jinsol was laughing again, watching it over her shoulder. “Who else is gonna do it?”

“I’m locking the bathroom next time I host.”

“That means people’ll go to other rooms.”

“Then I’m never hosting again.” Jungeun hit the lock button, passing the phone back.

"What's up with you?" Jinsol asked the question, shaking her with her foot. She must’ve looked spaced out, still lost in the night before.

She shook her head, “Just tired.”

She’d tried to enjoy herself, forced herself through everything that should’ve made her feel good, but it didn’t. She knew it last night and it was even clearer now. She’d been leaning against the backwall, the room, lit by a disco light, rolling between blue and purple. The girl she’d been talking to was pretty, friendly and she’d barely been able to talk to her. Her mind was everywhere else, recalling bad memories, making up scenarios that only filled her with panic, her Mom coming back early, finding her bed empty, someone tripping and falling, sirens from the street blaring out over the music. She’d nodded along, watched the girl bite the tip of her thumb, look at her through long lashes and lean forward. Her heart raced for all the wrong reasons and she pulled away, walked out front and rested her swirling head against the cold metal of the garage door. 

She’d wanted a distraction, to shut her brain off, but it refused to be silenced. 

The doorbell chimed and Jinsol lifted her legs, letting her out. She slipped her wallet out of her coat by the door and took out ten dollars to tip. The sun was still out, and she braced herself as she pulled the latch, ready for it to hit her.

“Hey.” 

She froze, fully froze, her arm still outstretched, clutching the door. She’d been expecting a stranger with food. It wasn’t a stranger with food. 

“These are for you…and your Mom.”

It was Jiwoo. Holding a stack of Tupperware. Her eyes darting up and down at the sight before her.

Sooyoung couldn’t find words. She was stuck imagining the mess Jiwoo was seeing. Her t-shirt, her pink crop top she used to wear for rehearsals and now she only ever wore at home. Her faded sweats, another practice staple, with elastic so worn she had to fold the waistband over to keep them in place. And completely bare faced. No one was supposed to see her like this.

“Thanks.” She finally dropped her hand and reached out slowly to collect it, placing a hand on top to steady the stack. The last thing she wanted was to drop it, make the situation worse, be a mess while looking a mess. 

It wasn’t fair. Jiwoo didn’t look any different to how she looked at school, pink lips, blue jeans and a neat sweater. All she’d done was swap her backpack out for a purse. Sooyoung had crawled out of bed in the middle of the afternoon and Jiwoo had probably got up at dawn, made a checklist for the day and completed three-quarters of it.

“I think the top two are the dairy free ones.” Her eyes softened, her smile spread wider. It was her default state, contentment, Sooyoung was pretty sure she'd never seen her sad.

A car pulled up outside her house and Jiwoo followed Sooyoung’s eyes over her shoulder. The passenger window rolled down, an outline with a seatbelt still on, Sooyoung expected them to lean out and say something, but they stayed put.

Jiwoo’s phone buzzed, and she slipped it from her pocket. She obviously had somewhere else to be.

“Thanks for the food,” the car was still waiting, its engine humming, “have fun.”

“Huh?” Jiwoo lifted her head up, eyes bright and expectant, waiting for her to repeat herself.

It was meant to be offhand, a comment to regain just a shred of the ground she'd lost but Jiwoo hadn't even heard her, and as she repeated the words they came out slow and sincere, "Have fun."

"You too." Her phone started to ring, and she shut it off, cancelled the call without looking. “Enjoy the food.”

She was halfway down the path, calling out to the waiting car before Sooyoung could reply. She swung the door as Jiwoo climbed in the backseat and it closed with a slam, sealing out the rest of the world.

She was dazed, the stack of containers in her hands the only evidence what had just happened had really happened. She just hadn’t been expecting it. Jiwoo at her house, backed away from the doorstep so kind and so slight. She could’ve picked her up alongside the food she brought and barely been able to tell.

“Is that our food?” Jinsol called out, almost definitely lost, listening in from the living room.

She pressed her forehead into the door, it stung a little, a harsh reminder her she still dealing with a hangover and still waiting for her delivery. She looked at her phone, the car was frozen a block away. The timer flipped again, three minutes.


	6. SATURDAY 14:10

Jiwoo had always wanted a spot, a hang out, a single place she could fill with memories and return to when she was older. She’d run her hand along the table or the chairs and smile wistfully, remembering her youth.

They’d found their place when they were avoiding beach parking. Jiwoo was fine with paying ten dollars for a few hours, but Yerim was absolutely certain they could find somewhere free. Impatient car horns forced Heejin to pick up speed on the highway and her small-scale anxiety attack wasn’t helped by Yerim, loose in the backseat, bouncing forward, hitting her on the shoulder and directing her to make a U-turn.

Eventually they pulled up behind the stark white building, past the arched opening, the glass storefront. Heejin pointed out the space was probably for staff, one of three slots, tucked away, beside a set of dumpsters and a metal cage filled with cardboard. Yerim shrugged, they’d move if someone told them to move.

Inside, Yerim skipped her way to the counter and Heejin guided them to a table of four, not realizing it would become their table. Jiwoo was biased, but it was the best place to sit, the front corner of the room. The busy roads weren’t much to look at, cars flying up the highway but past them were palm trees and sand and the barely there ocean, distant enough that it was a watery base to the sky. When the weather was bad, she had the scope of the store, the white walls, the varnished wooden shelves lined with bags of coffee beans, pendant lights that hung from the high ceiling, hovering a few feet above the wide marble island that concealed two baristas. It reminded her of the fancy kitchen’s rich families on TV had, minimalist, stylized but a little impractical, whoever owned the place had put a lot of thought into aesthetic and not so much selling coffee. The black block writing on the far wall read _Primo Coffee._ That would become their shorthand: _Wanna go to Primo’s_? _Let’s just go to Primo’s?_ or just _Primo’s?_

It attracted a lot of students, sat on stools at raised tables, with their laptops, drinking from reusable cups and typing intently when they weren’t distracted by their phones. Jiwoo couldn’t wait for that to be her. Having so much to do she wasn’t self-conscious about being on her own. Getting coffee because she needed it, balancing work and parties and society events. She loved her friends, she’d love them forever, but college was where her life would begin. She hadn’t really had any of her firsts, college was where they’d happen, out on the East Coast. It was the plan since middle school, and she thought she was on track.

“What am I saying? Lemon? Chocolate? Lemon. Lemon?” Heejin checked one last time, their drinks already ordered they decided to split a muffin between them as well. She’d taken on the responsible role for the day, driving them around and ordering for them. She was better at the first one, but still got panicked doing both. And when she panicked, she asked the same question until someone cut in.

“Chocolate.” Hyunjin quietly asserted, talking into her Switch.

“Chocolate?”

She nodded calmly and Heejin mirrored her, getting stiller and whispering to herself as she crossed to the counter.

“Is she getting lemon?” Yerim finally looked up from her phone, the conversation passing her by entirely.

“Chocolate.” Jiwoo let her know.

“Oh, someone can have my quarter then. And when she’s back we need to figure out Friday- and Yeojin keeps asking me about filming.” She turned her attention to Hyunjin, still immersed in her game, refusing to look up. “When can AV give us stuff to film?”

“When the track team’s done with it.”

“When?”

“When they’re finished.”

Yerim threw her head back, “How’re we supposed to film?”

“iPhones.”

“That’s not helpful.” 

“What’re you filming?” She decided to step in, help Hyunjin out of a conversation she didn't want to be in and because she was genuinely curious, Yerim always had a rush of plans, choreography ideas, it was hard to nail down what she was up to.

“It’s for class, not me, I promised real equipment so we could monitor better-who’s in charge of the track team? Jungeun?” Yerim snapped back to Hyunjin, her phone readied, “should I message her?”

“A teacher booked it out for them.”

“AV?” Heejin checked back in with their order, the beauty of being one of five people in the place.

“Yeah.” Hyunjin confirmed.

She put the cardboard carrier in the middle of the table and set down the chocolate muffin, centered on small white plate. Jiwoo took her coffee and cradled it, the vanilla escaping through the mouth of the lid.

“Why don’t you just use your phones?”

The question was met with silence, Yerim unwilling to answer again and maybe forever. Jiwoo took the bullet and did it for her, “They need to monitor.”

“Right.”

“It doesn’t matter we’ll wait- we need to figure out Friday.”

“I was thinking five, I can get everyone, we can get food or go straight back to mine.” Heejin put the idea out there.

She nodded, but it wasn't enough for the two sets of eyes on her, both waiting for her to say something. It was like her parents again. Hyunjin leaned over, pulling off a piece of the muffin and retracting back to her game. 

“Want me to get you first?” 

She shrugged, just trying to ease the burden of their attention, “Whatever’s easiest for you.”

“Okay, so Jiwoo, me, Hyunjin.” Yerim swung her phone around as she pointed.

“Then we can go to mine, order food.” Heejin finished, both checking in with her again.

They over planned when they thought she was getting stressed and it could be a little overbearing. She wanted to tell them the grade really hadn’t bothered her that much, that they didn’t need to look after her like this, but she’d be lying, and they’d see through it. Then she’d have to talk about it and that was last thing she wanted, burdening everyone else with her problems.

“Sounds good.” She took a sip of her coffee, sweet and warm as always.

"Cool, done." Yerim smiled, rewarding herself with her phone.

“You know, I asked my brother about early admission,” Heejin spoke quietly across the table after she sipped at her order - an americano, black, just like Hyunjin. Both Jiwoo and Yerim had no idea how they drank it, it was so bitter, “He said the grade shouldn’t effect it, if you’ve submitted everything. And you’ve done everything else.”

"Right."

“If Brown doesn’t accept you there’s something wrong with them.” Yerim offered, eyes still cast down.

“Yeah, the grade doesn’t mean anything.” Heejin.

“Right.” She said it again, it was all she could say. It was either _right_ or it was honesty, telling them about the questions that had been plaguing her. _W_ _hat if everything isn’t enough? What if my version of doing everything is less than someone else’s?_

Heejin took a breath, more comforting words at the ready and Jiwoo had never been more grateful for Yerim’s interruption, for the attention of the room to be on someone else.

“Guess what?” She gasped and leaned forward, both hands flat on the table. She didn't wait for an answer, rushing to continue, “Ha Sooyoung came to Fusion the other day.”

Jiwoo looked across to Heejin and was met with an equally blank stare, both waiting on each other to react so they could follow.

Yerim threw her hands up at their silence, “This is big news, she cleaned out her locker. She’s really gone.”

“Right, big deal.” Heejin supported, taking another sip.

“Huge deal, that’s a guaranteed solo up for anyone now and an open masterclass space, so you have to come to the next showcase, you know I could be center, final year center, that’s crazy.” She talked a mile a minute, twisting between them as she went, her frappe sitting untouched in front of her.

“Is anyone else auditioning?”

“Everyone will be.”

“You'll kill it, you deserve it.”

“Yeah,” Jiwoo agreed. She really did, Yerim put more work into dance then she’d put into anything her whole life. They’d been supporting her since Freshman year, going to every showcase and watching her travel up stage, back row to front row, always left or right of one particular person.

“You can tell Ha Sooyoung thank you. Next time you visit her.” There it was, the tease she'd been expecting the moment Yerim had dropped her name. 

Being at her door when Heejin and Yerim pulled up had continued her conspiracy just as it was starting to die down. One thirty second video from when they were sixteen of a Fusion showcase where Jiwoo’s eyes ended up on Sooyoung for a fraction too long had Yerim convinced she was deeply in love with the girl and that as neighbors they were destined to be together. The texts had stacked up rapid fire when Yerim saw her on that doorstep. Any other day she would have shut her phone off, let them roll in until everything was out of her system, but that afternoon they were actually a happy distraction.

She couldn’t work it out. Sooyoung had opened the door and it took her a moment to register that it was her. Hair in a loose bun, bare faced and tired eyed, Jiwoo was overcome with the urge to jump forward, wrap her arms around her and squeeze her too tight. It wasn’t like when she saw Sooyoung at parties, dark and steely, in high-rise jeans and a crop top. She didn’t want her to pass her a drink, ask her how her night was and guide her upstairs, somewhere quiet. Squinting from the sun, wearing pink, she’d never seen her in pink, she'd just wanted to hug her, be close to her.

“Apparently she’s a drug dealer now.”

Heejin laughed, shaking her head, “That’s not true.”

“She deals to people at school.”

“No way.”

“She does.”

“Heejin,” Hyunjin spoke up and the whole table, the whole store seemed to go quiet, “you should tell your Sooyoung story again.”

“No.” Yerim's response was immediate and resolute and put Heejin on the defence.

"Why not?"

Jiwoo looked to her side, found Hyunjin smiling behind her screen, perfectly aware what she was stirring up. 

“It’s a terrible story. Nothing happens.” Yerim bordered on angry whenever Hyunjin brought it up, still reeling from how much it had let her down. 

Heejin shrugged, “That’s your opinion.”

“You have better stories, way better stories, that don’t involve Ha Sooyoung.”

“You do.” Jiwoo agreed, she could laugh about it now.

They were at Primo's when Heejin had told them, sitting in their same seats and each fighting a different level of hangover after a Halloween party at a house on 3rd. Hyunjin was rock bottom, head down on the table, nails still black from her costume. She was the next step up, conscious but hypersensitive, the product she had put in her hair mixing with her coffee, sweet coconut with even sweeter vanilla that made her stomach turn. Yerim was surprisingly alert for someone who had chased down half a tray of shots with a bottle of Smirnoff Ice and waited with wide eyes as Heejin, completely sober, dropped into her seat and excitedly teased her story: Ha Sooyoung had tried to hook up with her.

Hyunjin propped her chin on folded arms, suddenly up and listening, Yerim's jaw dropped and Jiwoo found herself frozen, speechless. Sooyoung hooking up with people had never bothered her, it had become a part of Sooyoung, just what she did, who she was, but the idea of it being Heejin was different. When the gossip was details of how Sooyoung had hooked up with a stranger, a thigh between a girl’s legs on the dance floor, buried in a girl’s neck against the back wall, quiet moans through a bathroom door, when the focus was on Sooyoung and what she’d done, not who with, it was fun to listen to. But with Heejin it was real and before she’d said anything more, Jiwoo couldn’t help picturing them around their table, a fifth chair pulled up, Sooyoung’s arm draped over Heejin’s shoulder. Heejin had said five words and Jiwoo was ready to go home, lie in bed, stare at the ceiling and wonder why she suddenly felt so empty.

Thank God for Yerim. Mouth still hanging open from the reveal, the excitement, she’d pushed for details, prodding Heejin with questions. The more she answered, the more her story unraveled. Jiwoo drew her eyes up from her coffee, awash with relief when all details were out there: They’d shared a couple of words, Sooyoung had asked Heejin if she smoked, Heejin had said no and Sooyoung left, went outside on her own. That was it.

Yerim snapped her mouth shut and Jiwoo’s laugh poured out lighter than ever. They told her on the spot it wasn’t a story, Hyunjin even sided with them - clearly that never stopped her encouraging Heejin to tell it whenever Sooyoung was brought up. Heejin swore by it, that if she said yes, she could have woken up just a door down from her. She'd said it with a teasing smile, it was just a joke, but her nausea had doubled thinking about it.

“Do you know The Handmaid’s Tale, the book?” Yerim moved them on, looking around and getting a nod from Heejin. “What’s the story? Like basically. I have to read it for class and I don’t want to.”

Jiwoo shuffled to her side, resting her head on Hyunjin’s shoulder and she pushed her screen out for a better view.

She remembered seeing Sooyoung that Halloween too. Her broomstick had become more disruptive than fun in a house crammed with Juniors and she went out back to hide it, left it gently leaning against the brick. They crossed paths at the door, Sooyoung was a vampire, it suited her, another outsider type. She'd told her she liked her costume and she’d nodded, shifting her eyes outside. Sooyoung didn’t ask her if she smoked. She didn’t ask her anything.


	7. MONDAY 17:14

She wasn’t built to study.

She pressed hard on her temples, in a staring match with a blank document. The assignment was one thousand five hundred words and she had ten. Her name and the question.

She lay back, let her head hit the pillow and closed her eyes.

School had never been this hard for her, not until recently. She’d missed homework, had some detentions, but they were mostly honest mistakes, she’d get too distracted with choreo and just forget about other deadlines. Her Mom would always let off when she explained it, encourage her to make a list to keep herself in check and she’d nod but never do it. She was an okay student, good even, got the occasional A when they covered a topic she actually cared about, and she was happy with that.

But it was like the more important school had become, the more it took up priority, the less she seemed to be able to do it. Every blank document, every question paper, filled her mind with doubts that made her brain seemed to cloud over and made her restless, uncomfortable, for not being able to break through it. She was leaving everything to the last minute, using the rush that came from not wanting to have nothing to push her toward having a something that didn’t really make any sense.

“Sooyoung?” Her Mom didn’t wait for a reply, the door creeping open as she asked the question.

She pulled herself back to sitting, lowered the lid of her laptop, the glowing white page brightening up her keyboard. Her Mom didn't say anything more, she didn't have to, the look of expectation as she peeked round the door only meant one thing.

"I'm working.” She tried for causal, but it came out too insistent and she could tell her Mom was having a hard time believing her.

She glanced at the laptop then back to her, "We’re really working?”

"Yes," Sooyoung reached for the lid instinctively, lowering it an inch further. “It’s just this one assignment.”

"Okay, dinner in an hour.” Her Mom slipped back out the door, padding back downstairs.

As soon as the steps faded, she fell back again, let her arms fall out wide, fingers just able to trace the rutted edges of her mattress.

She called it lockdown, the hours between the afternoon and the evening where her Mom wouldn’t leave her alone until she’d finished her homework. It had started almost a year to the day. Since Fusion stopped being a part of her life and there was no practice, she no longer had anything to do between leaving school and going to bed for the first time since she was six. Her Mom let her explore them for herself at first, but there were only so many times she could find her lounging in the living room or the kitchen, laptop open and headphones in, always somehow in the way, before she began to ask questions or make suggestions neither of which Sooyoung wanted to hear or answer. Homework was sort of a win-win for both of them. She got her Mom off her back, could shut herself in her room and say she was working but really be doing anything and her Mom got to think she was being productive.

_one hundred to do my assignment._

She lay on her side, typing the SOS to the group, singling out Jinsol, half joking, half hoping she might take pity on her, send her usable notes, or find her an example essay she could copy and paste just to keep her Mom at bay.

Instead Jungeun replied. 

_that’s low  
_ _she’ll want double that  
_ _triple  
_ _ten times_

_one hundred and one to do my assignment  
_ _final offer._ She sent back.

Another notification dropped onto her screen. Jungeun taking the conversation private.

_everything okay?_

It was Jungeun’s way of telling her she knew it wasn’t. A part of her wanted to answer no, but truthfully if she did and Jungeun replied, asked _what’s up?_ she wouldn’t know what to say.

She locked her phone, pushed herself up and closed her laptop. With the light gone, she was awake to the dark of the room. Her curtains were closed, her lamp wasn’t on and everything was cast in shadow. She was officially past the point of being able to work, there was no way she could get her brain to focus, she needed something else, and her eyes found her dresser.

She climbed off her bed, knelt down on the soft carpet and pulled open the bottom drawer. It was stuffed full of old clothes from way back, sweaters she hadn’t worn since middle school, and cheap incense she bought at a health store was packed either side, all to cover any traces of the tin pushed right to the back. She fished it out, grabbed her backpack from her closet, put on her sneakers and unlatched her window.

Going out on the roof had only made her nervous the first time she tried it. She had spotted the delicate slope, the way her room stuck out, as soon as they moved in. She pictured herself sitting up there, looking out at the neighborhood, listening to music. At thirteen she just thought it would be cool, and she was young enough to try it, thinking she was invincible. One evening in the summer, when it was still light and she could see where she was stepping, she found the courage to slide her window up, put one leg out, follow it with the other and quickly take three steps up to the flat, sitting down on the rough gravel and looking out. The view was fine, she could see to the end of the road, to the houses that lined the bisecting street and the trees behind them, looming large, cutting her off from seeing much more. She quickly realised there wasn’t much to do beyond sit and see and she got a little bored. Then thoughts filtered in, of being caught by a neighbor, of them telling her Mom or calling the police and suddenly she was up again, climbing back into her room, chalking it off as a fun experiment.

She didn’t really go out there again until she was sixteen, still learning to drive, and there was nowhere she could smoke safely within walking distance. Now it was only once a night, to smoke before bed, it had been a while since she went out there when it was still light out.

She sat down, unzipped her backpack and pulled out one of the many sweatshirts Jungeun had collected from competitions and different college recruiters over the years. Whenever she stayed over at her house she seemed to leave wearing one, her and Jinsol probably had twenty between them. She slipped it on, pulled up the sleeves and opened the tin after she’d set it in her lap. It was comforting process, one she usually did in her car, unscrewing the jar, grinding, laying out a paper, making a neat line and rolling it tight, tracing her tongue to seal it. The first time she rolled in front of Jungeun, she watched quietly then asked how she learned to do it. She said _YouTube_ and Jungeun had laughed. She never followed up with anything more, just took a drag when she passed it over, then shook her head and said it wasn’t for her. Sooyoung didn’t actually know if she believed her answer or whether she thought she was making fun, but it was the truth. She wished someone cool and influential had taught her, it was a better story than searching _how to make a joint_ in a private tab after months trying to work out how to message the dealer that had put his number in her phone at a New Year’s party, promising he could fix her up with anything.

She unzipped the front pocket of her backpack, rooted around for a lighter to seal it and came up empty. There was probably one lying somewhere in her room, but she didn’t have the energy for a return journey, to go in then back out again. She dropped the joint into the tin and closed the lid, told herself she’d fix it later on.

_She thinks she looks cool._ Jinsol had said it, watching the microwave popcorn rotate and looking sideways to Jungeun with a smile, as Sooyoung sat in the doorway between the kitchen and the patio, smoking by herself. She let her think it, she let anybody think it, mainly because there was a little truth to it. She had grown up seeing a lot of the older kids at Fusion huddled together and smoking to the side of the front entrance after class while she waited for her Mom. She always thought they looked cool, always wanted to try it and took up the opportunity whenever she could, nodding if someone asked her _do you smoke_? at a party. But the real reason was as boring as anything else in her life, she tried it more times than she should and began to want, then need the comfort it brought her. It helped soothe her stress, occupied her, helped her not to think, settled her when she was nervous. Then not having it became a stress in itself and she’d failed the couple times she attempted to stop.

Her phone buzzed, Jinsol finally replying.

_she’s right  
_ _a thousand or nothing  
_ _btw check this out_

She followed up with screenshots of The Sims, the house she’d been decorating for the past week, a part of the entire neighborhood she was constructing. She’d promised to make all three them and put them in a house together at some point which Jungeun had shaken her head at, _I don’t wanna live with you._

Her message was still lying there too and she knew she needed to send something back, that not responding to the message _everything okay?_ was the surest way of making it clear it wasn’t.

_i’m fine_ _  
bored out of my mind  
need to write an entire assignment_

Jungeun replied lightning quick.

_just get it done_ _  
the next one can be good._

She wanted to write back, tell her getting it done was the problem, but what advice do you give to someone who just can’t do something? Isn’t the best thing to move on?

She locked her phone, let it fall into her lap and leaned back on her hands, the tiny stones pushing into her palm.

The sun had barely set, and its memory was still at the foot of the sky, shading it in light orange. She followed a Prius down the road, making the left turn she makes every morning for school and she followed a jogger the opposite way, until she passed the house and disappeared up the street, deeper into the neighborhood, a path she rarely walked. She’d been fighting off where her eyes wanted to land, trying to occupy herself with anything else, but she saw movement in her peripheral, something, someone and eventually she gave in and looked to the window across from her.

Jiwoo’s curtains were usually drawn, her room was usually dark but today they were open, and she could even make her out, sitting at her desk, shoulders and the tip of her head, the rest blocked out by her laptop. She could easily imagine her face, like in class, shifting with every new beat of information, expressive like a cartoon. She didn’t believe it was real the first time she noticed it, that someone could be that beholden to what their teacher was telling them. Slowly she learned that was just Jiwoo, she cared.

She thought about the tin resting beside her, what Jiwoo would think or say about her smoking. Maybe if her Mom ever got suspicious she would blame it on Jiwoo, tell her she sees her every night, climbing on to her roof and lighting up. She’d never believe her, Sooyoung couldn’t even picture Jiwoo with a cigarette, it was one of those things she’d have to see to believe, like when she first saw her at a party.

It was still fresh in her mind. Sophomore Year. Jiwoo was nursing a drink in the corner of the living room, arm linked tight through her friends'. Her hair was up and she was in all black, a pleated skirt and a top and Sooyoung had leaned forward on the kitchen counter as partygoers brushed past her, trying to see her for more than a split second between the crowds, trying to verify that it was actually her. She caught her again, a couple more times, leaning into her friend to pass comment on the party. It wasn’t like the usual thrill of seeing someone familiar, the relief of finding a classmate, it was something different, like embers, a warm glow radiating strong enough that for just a moment the music softened, and the lights dimmed.

She had fun that night, real fun. There was something about seeing Jiwoo there, how unexpected it was, how surprising, that made her feel electric.

And it kicked off a strange push and pull. Every party she went to, the first thing she did was look for her, scan rooms until she found her, always on the outskirts and always with a friend. She never needed Jiwoo to be there, but she couldn't deny that her nights were always better when she was. Nowadays she barely saw her, it made sense, Jiwoo probably preferred staying in and reading a book rather than going out. Still, there were some occasions - birthdays, holidays - where she would turn a corner and find Jiwoo there, entertaining whatever boy had worked up the courage to talk to her, and those embers would crack, just a little, enough to send a single spark dancing into the air.

Jiwoo stood up, walking out of view and leaving her to stare at an empty desk. She checked her phone, saw that it was getting late, close to food being ready, close to her Mom calling her name and breaking into her room again. Jungeun’s messages were still there, lying on her lock screen.

_Just get it done_. The advice wasn't welcome, but it was right. She needed to get it over with.


	8. TUESDAY 15:06

She swiped her pen in a short line across her notepad, then downward, back across, and up again. Her mindless shape was a square, she drew it when she wasn’t paying attention or couldn’t pay attention. Most people drew circles but it’s hard to draw them well. Her squares littered the page like stars in the sky, varied in size, so small it was hard to see the blank center or so large it was shaded in.

She shifted forward in her chair, hunching further over her work, her hair draped forward, curtains protecting it from spying eyes. Her partner was missing, the only people who’d be able to see how her lack of concentration had manifested would be her classmates at the table in front, but they’d easily be spotted, twisting over their chairs. The teacher could see too, if she stood over her or sat in the space next to her, demanding to check her notes.

Jiwoo didn’t know how a teacher treated a student once they’d failed their class, maybe she would ask to see her work now that she thought it wasn’t worthy of a good grade. She looked up from her notepad to her teacher flipping through a binder, wearing the cream cardigan and white scoop neck combination from last week and the week before and the week before that. Her coffee cup rested empty beside the desktop computer; she practically drank it in one before the lesson began. Jiwoo had to keep reminding herself, she was a person. She could get tired, she could get frustrated, she had a life outside the classroom. It wasn’t fair that her bad work should be taken out on the person who had to grade it.

It just hurt. She failed. Completely. There was an unshakeable cloud over her, sitting in class, studying a book she’d been told she didn’t understand, that red pen still fresh and bright. It dulled her senses, she found herself lost in classes, zoning out until everyone’s heads shot down and they scribbled at their pages. She’d begin writing too but it would be slow and aimless. The terrible cafeteria coffee, dark and murky, pushed her to end the of classes, helped her to say anything more than just a _yeah_ to her friends. Any train of thought was derailed by the anxiety that had become so strong, so expected that it was like it had already happened.

Unfolding the envelope, slipping out the letter, Brown University emblazoned on the masthead and the words she just knew were coming: _Unfortunately, you have been rejected from early application._

It was right around the corner; early applicants were beginning to know if they’d been accepted or rejected or placed on hold. Jiwoo was waiting for that arrow direct to her heart. She hoped more than anything in the world to be proven wrong.

“Take one and pass it along, make sure everyone gets one.” Her teacher handed a small stack of papers to the front three desks, they made their way backwards over shoulders. The paper waved in front of Jiwoo, she took the thin stack and passed them behind her, getting a mumbled _thank you_ in return.

A project with your partner, a presentation. The space beside her was wider and emptier than ever before. _Use of the library and work outside school hours is expected._ She thought maybe this was a lifeline, her teacher giving her another chance in secret, knowing she couldn’t do it on her own. Her partner was smart, he read books in his lap during classes and still got A’s. He could help her, guide her away from a failing grade. _Presentation slots will available from next week and everyone will present in the last week of the semester._

“Is everyone clear?” - there were nods all round - “Sooyoung, Jiwoo, you can partner.”

It was like she'd been put on pause, it was like the whole world was paused. She watched her teacher return to her chair, file through her binder again. Her mouth felt dry and she realized it was hanging open. Sooyoung. She was partnered with Sooyoung. Sooyoung who sat at the back of the class and spent most of it looking out of the window. Sooyoung who had just heard she was partnered with her. Her face must've fallen too, probably earlier, at just the mention of group work. 

She risked a look over her shoulder, maybe they could connect over the fact they didn’t want to work together. Jiwoo was surprised to find her head down, still reading the assignment. She wasn’t even sure Sooyoung knew they were partners. If she did, surely she wouldn’t be so relaxed.

The bell rang and chairs shifted in a chorus of groans as the metal dragged along the cheap plastic floor. There was flutter of light conversation, pairs who were excited they’d get to spend the last month of the semester together.

“Presentation booking is next week.” Her teacher called over the crowd as it filed out.

She checked over her shoulder again, quickly. Sooyoung hadn’t packed away just stood with her bag on the table, tapping at her phone. She was far away from girl at the door, she was back to looking like regular Sooyoung again, dark jeans, dark top, cold eyes. She braced herself for the cutting glare she was about to receive, ready to call out her name.

“Sooyoung, can I speak to you?” Their teacher interrupted; arms folded at her desk. She’d lost her chance and her teacher's questioning look was a signal, she wanted her out.

The hallway emptied quickly, maybe she was an idiot for hanging around. She needed to know, needed confirmation from Sooyoung that it was real, that they were partners, that they’d be working together. In the library and outside school hours.

Her teacher hadn’t stopped talking, she could hear the low murmur of her voice, the vibrations of words. It still felt intrusive, they both assumed there was no one out there, little did they know she was waiting. She shifted down the hall a little and checked her messages, found a thread of Yerim and Hyunjin playing around with dumb filters. It was impossible not to at least smile, the saddest person in the world could still get a kick out of them, her laugh bounced off the back wall.

She was too busy typing her reply to hear the conversation from the classroom finish and suddenly the door was swinging open and Sooyoung was pulling up, mid-stride, stopping in front of her. It was like a duel, both of them rooted in place, a few meters apart. Sooyoung’s eyes bored into her, silently asking what she was doing, why she was there.

“We’re partnered.” It was all she could offer. 

“Yeah.” Sooyoung said slowly, like it was obvious, like she was waiting for Jiwoo to make a point.

Her eyes landed on the green slip in Sooyoung’s hand, still fluttering with motion. A warning, detention, a meeting with parents. She'd never had one but she imagined if she did she’d bury the slip in her desk draw and hope nothing came of it. Sooyoung’s index ticked on the paper in a steady rhythm, like a timer, counting down, her patience probably wearing thin. Jiwoo was somewhere else, back at her locker, an afternoon in Sophomore year. Yerim had appeared out of nowhere while she swapped out books between classes. She told her she'd just washed her hands next to Ha Sooyoung. She always said her name in full, like she was a celebrity. Jiwoo had trained herself not to respond too obviously after the video incident, she couldn’t let Yerim have any more ammunition, so she stilled herself and waited for Yerim to continue. _Her nails were so short_ , her eyebrows were raised about as high as they could go.

The rumors in their circle of Sooyoung being some girl version of a playboy were new at the time, and any detail that could be shared was shared to laughs and gasps. Sometimes she wondered if the thrill everyone discussed it with was the same, whether they were all excited about entering the age where drama wasn’t just who liked who but who slept with who, or whether they were excited about the possibility they could be the kind of person Sooyoung would approach.

It made think about her own nails, whether growing them and painting them in pale pink was some kind of signal she didn’t know about. Sooyoung knew enough to keep hers a certain way, she would know what to look for in someone else. What if she was casting herself out of a game before she even understood the rules?

Sooyoung's eyes darted past her and she realized she was trapping the girl in what was likely her least favorite place, forcing her to think about a class she’d just been kept behind in. And no one ever wants to be in school longer than they need to be.

“Should we start soon? Start planning or something? Or if you're busy right now, I could just message or you could message me, and we could talk about it some other time?” She was rambling, she noticed herself doing that a lot, using fifty words where there could have been five. It made some people mad but Sooyoung didn't look mad, she didn't even look bored or cold anymore, there was something else in her eyes. 

“Do you need a ride home?”

It caught her out and she shook her head while she thought of a response. Sooyoung with her hand resting in her back pocket had asked her into her car, cool and casual, like it was something she'd ever offered before, like they knew each other, like this wasn't the longest conversation they'd ever had. 

Words finally came to. “No, no, I drove today, it was my turn with the car.”

“Okay,” Sooyoung nodded, the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. “I’m that way.”

“Me too.”

They both set off, separate people going the same way, the _clack clack clack_ of their shoes echoing off the walls. It was quiet and the distance between them was too much to just start talking. One of them would have to edge closer or call the other’s name to get their attention. One of them would have to take the step and break the silence. 

Sooyoung slipped her phone from her pocket, two thumbs hitting the keyboard and the hope of a conversation died. Jiwoo had thought before about what would happen if she ever found herself alone with Sooyoung, somewhere that wasn’t her doorstep, with her hands free of food that her Dad had cooked and her Mom had labelled. In her head, she didn’t have to go first, Sooyoung was forward and approached her or was already with her the way people and places are just _there_ in dreams. She talked to her and asked her questions like people said she did at parties, like Heejin said she had.

She knew she was being hopeful. She liked daydreaming, thinking passersby found the little hop she did from the road to the pavement endearing, that bus drivers remembered her as polite when she thanked them, that when she caught Sooyoung looking at her it had meaning beyond annoyance, beyond acknowledgment that she was loudest person in the hallway and that Sooyoung was one of many people looking at her, wishing she’d be quieter.

Sooyoung edged ahead to open the door, trailing her hand so Jiwoo could slip through after. Her keys clinked as she removed them, politely signaling that she didn’t want to hang around. Still, she hovered on the concrete, breath clouding in the cold air.

Jiwoo hooked her backpack tighter and broke the silence:

“I’ll message later?” It wasn’t meant to come out as a question, she wanted to be firm, establish herself then leave. Instead her voice ticked upward and it was noticeable enough to catch Sooyoung's attention. 

“Sure,” she nodded, ignoring her phone lighting up to quickly scan her up and down. "Get home safe.”

“You too.” 

She peeled away and she couldn't help the smile that came over her. _Get home safe_. It sounded strange coming from Sooyoung and she didn’t really sound like she meant it. It was polite but forced, like she was saying it because everyone else did. She slung her backpack over her hip to grab her keys from the front pocket, sneaking a look back to the school, hopeful that she’d find Sooyoung watching, making sure for certain she got home safe. The steps were empty, she'd already gone.

She clipped her phone to the dash, and hit play on a song, sitting first place on her recently added. It was the song she heard when she first saw the other Sooyoung. There were two now: Pink Sooyoung and Blue Sooyoung. Blue was the one she knew best, stoic and steely, who’s cold eyes made you feel like you were wasting her time. Pink was the doorstep, reserved and hesitant, quiet, the one Jiwoo wanted to wrap her arms around. She closed her eyes and let the opening notes swell. 

The song stuttered for a second, a sure sign of an incoming message. She assumed it was probably the group, Yerim with something to say. With her eyes open, she saw the message from her Dad, resting pretty on her lock screen.

_Letter came for you Jiwoo._ _From Brown._

She was back in the real world.

He must’ve thought she wanted him to be excited and messaged her to show it. She couldn’t hate him, but the attention made everything worse. People didn’t expect her to fail. She couldn't fail. She had a plan, a five-year plan that she needed to go right. She couldn't fail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen along with Jiwoo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKOmW_KYcEA


	9. TUESDAY 15:40

_Do you need a ride home? Get home safe_. She had no idea where those words came from. One moment she was being asked where her assignment was, forcing out a lie that she couldn't get round to it when she knew it was nestled away in the back of her notebook, accepting a detention, and the next Jiwoo was in front of her, looking toward her but never truly at her, her eyes darting around, her words rushing out, uneasy and unsettled.

Her attention was usually like a spotlight, full beam, making whoever it landed on feel beyond special and completely exposed all at once. She'd felt it on her doorstep, and it had twisted her up, disoriented her, made her feel more drunk than she had been the night before. An unwelcome reminder of why she preferred to look rather than actually talk to her. But out in the hallway, the spotlight had dimmed, noticeably. Jiwoo seemed different and there was only one change that separated the day from any other.

They were partnered.

Jiwoo was kind, she had waited when everyone else left just to make sure she knew about the homework - she would never do that, only Jiwoo did that – and she had seen the slip but didn't say a thing, just hid her judgment behind a polite smile. She would never tell her this was probably a personal nightmare, the overachiever being paired with girl carrying a detention slip. And maybe that was why, from nowhere, those words had emerged. She could take Jiwoo not caring about her, was perfectly aware she wasn’t a part of her life, but she didn’t like the idea of Jiwoo thinking badly about her, she didn’t want to be the reason that spotlight was fading.

“What about her?”

She dragged her feet across the park, she didn't need to listen to know exactly what was happening. Jinsol stretched out and comfortable, heels resting in the grass, phone turned toward Jungeun, cross-legged and hunched over, picking at the splintered wood of their table. Jinsol was playing matchmaker again and Jungeun was reluctantly playing along. She was a better friend than Sooyoung, dutifully letting Jinsol suggest girl after girl and always saying no. She didn't know whether it was because Jungeun really wasn't interested or because saying yes would mean Jinsol's newfound hobby would come to an abrupt end and it didn't matter, as long as it wasn't directed her way, she was happy to let it go on forever. 

"Don’t you think she’s cute?” Jinsol pushed her phone toward Sooyoung as she perched on Jungeun's shoulder.

An athletic build, athletic clothes, pretty eyes, short hair dyed platinum.

“She looks like your ex.” She braced herself for Jungeun’s response, expecting a shove or a glare but it never came, she kept her head down, eyes firmly on the bench.

“I don’t see it.” Jinsol kept scrolling, searching through more of the girl’s pictures, “Doesn’t matter anyway, I’ll find someone else... we’ll find you someone.” She patted Jungeun's knee and went back to her phone.

Jungeun looked up, finally acknowledging her with a silent _please help me_ and quickly getting distracted by the slip she'd forgotten to hide away. 

“What she say?”

“Just…it wasn’t good.” Sooyoung shrugged. She didn’t want to use her teacher’s actual words: _unacceptable_ , _disappointing._

“She fail you?” Jinsol asked.

“Barely passed.” It was another lie, and she could feel Jungeun looking at her, eyeing her with doubt, easily putting two and two together. Nobody got detention for passing.

“So your advice didn’t work,” Jinsol jabbed Jungeun’s arm, and she brought a defensive hand to it immediately, “this is why you should always come to me.”

“I tried to.” Jinsol was the one who eventually messaged her privately after midnight, her phone glowing in the dark with the two-word message. _Write it._

“Listen: I gave advice. What’s done with the advice is what makes it good or bad.” Jungeun reasoned loudly, still holding her wound, her head tilted to the sky.

She made sure to find Jinsol’s eyes, agreeing not to say anything, knowing their silence would only rile Jungeun up more. It worked and they both laughed when she lowered her head back down, looking between them and speaking resolutely:

“I’m right.”

“I think I’m just gonna start playing the lottery.” She sunk deeper into Jungeun’s shoulder, finally earning herself that glare.

Occasionally news stories would trend, someone winning hundreds of millions of dollars and it would always make the rounds, people quote tweeting with jokes, others making it political, boring people bringing up tax codes.

“If you won," Jungeun set her eyes on Jinsol, "would you get a stylist?” She smiled proudly, tilting away from Jinsol, expecting to be hit.

Jinsol just glowered until she thought of a comeback:

“No. I'd pay for college, be debt free.”

She flattened her voice, making sure Jinsol could read the sarcasm. “Sounds fun.”

"Sometimes it's good to be rational." Jinsol shrugged, then laughed when Sooyoung made sure she could see her roll her eyes. “You brought this up.”

“I think I’d get a nutritionist… and probably hire a trainer.” Jungeun mused, still picking at the bench. The practicality was spreading.

She tried to keep it light, what she was hoping to get from them in the first place. “I’d rent somewhere, have an insane party."

Jinsol nodded, the gears turning, "In the hills?"

"Yeah, somewhere like that."

"I like it." Her smile spread, the picture clearly growing in her mind. It would be Jinsol in her element, floors and floors of new people to meet, another stack of girls Instagram's for Jungeun to reject.

“Then what?” Jungeun dusted off her hands, craning up to ask the question.

“I don’t know, hire a cleaner.”

“Then what?” Jungeun’s eyes were still on her, challenging her, almost definitely getting revenge for the silence they’d left her in her.

"I don't know."

“Throw another one,” Jinsol offered. “Or just buy the house.”

"Sure, it'll just go on forever."

The answer was enough for Jungeun to leave her alone.

“You don’t have a nutritionist?” Jinsol levelled the question at Jungeun, circling back to move them on.

She shook her head, “No, just a coach.”

“So why are you always dieting?”

“She tells me to.”

“But she’s just a coach.”

“She still knows stuff.”

Sooyoung looked out at the empty park, the city peaking out just behind it, everything getting darker as the sun made its way home.

_Then what?_

There was a moment in her life she thought she knew exactly what she wanted. But that moment was gone.

By graduation Jungeun would be a step closer to becoming a real athlete, Jinsol would be going East to study music and Sooyoung, she had no idea where she would be.


	10. TUESDAY 18:12

ACT II: Somebody Else Can Be The Neptune Expert

Jiwoo had been an energetic child. _Enthusiastic_ is what elementary school teachers told her parents, _a handful_ is what her Dad said playfully over his coffee, _wild_ is what home videos of her scrambling around playgrounds befriending anyone and everyone had proven to her. She tried to dial it down in middle school when she could feel the judgmental stares as she and Hyunjin encouraged each other’s playfulness, immersing themselves fully re-enacting scenes from their favorite movies – _Kiki, look it’s me!_ ; seeing how far they could push the servers in the cafeteria, she once made it to five plates before they told her no more; getting sweaty playing one-on-one basketball. The stares said _this isn’t how you get boys to like you_ , by being loud, eating too much, by revealing you sweat or in Hyunjin’s case by being better at sports then any of them. Jiwoo wanted to tell them she didn’t care what boys thought of her, that she didn’t really care about boys at all, she was fourteen and figured that would all come later, but there was only so many times she could see someone watching her then leaning in and whispering to their friend. Hyunjin let her find her medium, she stayed quiet when Jiwoo began to apologize when she crept up in volume and let her pretend she was too full after one plate or too tired after one basket.

When Yerim dropped herself in to a seat at their table in the cafeteria Freshman year, asked to eat with them and disclosed she was the only person from her school who’d moved there, Jiwoo began to settle. High school was bigger and louder and wilder. Even though everyone acted grown up she would watch people in the hallway and be reminded of her home videos, kids running with each other, shoving each other, watching each other to learn new behavior. She didn’t need to hold herself back so much and with Yerim she’d found someone unabashed with their energy, unafraid to be themselves. Yerim told her stares didn’t matter, most of the time they were jealous, and when she sat in classes with girls and guys who talked to her freely, sometimes even enjoying her company, she stopped second guessing herself so much. She adopted – stole – Yerim’s mantra, that she would say defiantly around the table, _this is who I am_. Weeks later Hyunjin pulled Heejin along to sit with them, a three becoming a four in the back corner of the cafeteria. Jiwoo felt the group perfectly balance. They were a little reserved, they weren’t particularly popular, because of her and Yerim there they were often called loud, but they were liked, and Heejin scored them invites to everyone’s parties. By the end of Freshman Year she had friends, she mostly liked herself and she had been to three house parties which, although she was picked up at ten by her Dad, she considered enough to be having a pretty quintessential high school experience.

Except for one thing.

Yerim was the one who talked about relationships the most, she brought the gossip and they all listened, high school stories, dance school stories, Heejin would say she heard the same thing or shoot them down and Jiwoo and Hyunjin would sit in. Jiwoo was more of an active listener, contributing _no ways_ or _woahs_. It was hard to wrap her head around her classmates’ lives playing out like soap operas while she spent most nights watching TV with her parents. Sophomore year, parties started to come around more often, guys started to get braver and the gossip ramped up to NC-17. She fell behind. Yerim got her first boyfriend who broke her heart after two months when he kissed another girl. She followed a hundred female empowerment accounts and quoted the posts she liked most, _reminder: your self worth is not defined by how other people treat you._ Heejin made out with a guy, then hooked up with girl and stumbled through a sort of coming out, _I guess I like girls and guys I’m not really sure I just thought I should try it._ Yerim excitedly shared with her all the other girls in school she heard liked girls, _Jungeun who runs track has a girlfriend, she’s really pretty._ Even Hyunjin, who she assumed had done as little as her, was different, she was so self-assured it didn’t affect her, when Yerim brought it up at a sleepover, she stayed quiet and Heejin stepped in, _she won’t say anything, she’s probably had a boyfriend this whole time and kept it to herself._ It was just Jiwoo, still waiting. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to or had no desire, she had the internet and her own room with a door that locked. She’d kissed her arm more times than she could count, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips into the crook of her elbow and never once imagined a boy was on the other side. She told Heejin first, when she asked too many questions about _how she knew_ , and Heejin casually asked her if she thought she might feel a similar way. It stayed between them for barely a week before she told Yerim and Hyunjin at the cafeteria table and Yerim once again recounted her growing list of girls who liked girls, _Jungeun broke up with her girlfriend, you’d be so cute together._ The gossip they shared reshaped, Yerim widened her scope and eventually the showcase happened, Jiwoo was caught hypnotized on video and Yerim decided, with a mega-watt smile, that Jiwoo was in love Ha Sooyoung, a well that seemingly never went dry. It came so easy to everyone, Jiwoo assumed her turn would come around if she just waited.

But it never did. And when Yerim pestered Heejin about a girlfriend and she shook her head and told her she was focusing on schoolwork, Jiwoo found the perfect out. _Do both,_ Yerim had scolded, but her and Heejin decided they wouldn’t be able to. She became too busy studying to have a life, it would come later, and it would be more fulfilling because she waited. Her five year plan took shape, she would ace all her classes, take AP, take extra curriculars, learn an instrument, read the classics, watch the classics, volunteer, graduate near the top of her class, take Theatre Studies at Brown University, go to New York, get an internship at a magazine that became a staff position and get paid to share her opinions as loudly as she wanted.

She wasn’t enthusiastic Jiwoo to teachers anymore, she was outstanding Jiwoo, top of her class Jiwoo; she was hardworking and focused, fun but not wild; she wasn’t a handful, she was her parent’s little genius. She could do anything.

Her future was bright. Her future was full of endless possibilities. Her future was hopeful and happy. Her future was success. Her future was worth all the time she willingly sacrificed.

Now her future was gone.

Her future had been picked up, dropped and stamped on and stamped on again, over and over until the pieces were so small they’d disappeared.

_The Brown Board of Admission has completed its evaluation of more than 19,000 applications and it is with great regret that I must inform you that your application could not be included among our acceptances._

She feared the worst when she saw the envelope, so small it could only contain a letter. There was no accommodation brochure inside, no welcome guide, no further instructions. There was no further for her.

She wanted to open the packet in the kitchen, at the table, with her parents standing over each shoulder. She’d slide the letter out first and read it aloud even though they’d all be racing through it in their heads. She’d yell and scream the line about acceptance and her parents would cheer, they’d all cheer and hug, maybe even pop a bottle. Instead she was alone at her desk, just her and the letter, resting on her keyboard.

She thought anticipating the worst might have helped, that she’d feel a sense of accomplishment in knowing herself well enough to know she’d fail. But she was empty.

Her phone glowed, notifications overlapping quickly. It had got dark again, just like that, she hadn’t noticed. Time had fallen away.

_cousin got her early acceptance letter._ Heejin messaged the group. It didn’t feel right, that her world could collapse so silently and to everyone else nothing had changed.

_deferred by NYU  
_ _she’s dealing with it tho  
_ _you get anything??_

She stared at her phone, at Heejin’s message. She couldn’t think how she would tell them. She couldn’t think at all. She needed time so she chose the easiest way out:

_nothing yet._

_when they accept you we’re getting drunk._ Y added.  
 _wouldn’t it be cool  
_ _to drink and stay up all night  
_ _we could watch the sunrise  
_ _the sunrise on the beach  
_ _it would be so romantic  
_ _jiwoo u should stay_  
 _don’t leave us  
_ _we’re better than brown_

The messages stacked up and she stared at them blankly. She couldn’t think about anything but the letter, its words playing on a loop, her body unable to do anything but breathe raggedy breaths in and out. If anyone pressed their ear to her door it would’ve sounded like she was crying but she wasn’t. She was completely numb.

“Jiwoo?” Her Mom called, knocking lightly on her door. “Sooyoung is at the door. She asked for you.”

The words brought her back to reality, but she still couldn’t think clearly. She acted on instinct, throwing the letter into her desk drawer.

“Jiwoo?” Her Mom knocked again. The door wasn’t locked, it was a matter of seconds before she pushed her way in. Since the report card her parents had been on high alert and if she saw her sitting in the pale white glow of her laptop, hands slack, empty envelope lying awkward on her carpet, she’d realize what had happened in an instant.

She couldn’t know. No one could know. Not yet.

“One second.” She flipped her desk lamp on and found herself in the mirror. Her oversized hoodie, swallowed her up and she looked a little tired but nothing more than the usual. To the outside world nothing had changed, she was the same Jiwoo as she was yesterday, as she was in the morning. She had to be that for herself too. No one could know yet.

“Quiet in there.” Her mom mentioned as she emerged, a basket of laundry under her arm. When she got back to her room fresh clothes would be resting, neatly folded on her bed.

“Homework.” She shrugged, brushing past her down to the open door.

Sooyoung was a couple of paces from the doorstep occupying herself with her phone. It felt like weeks had passed since they’d last spoke.

She braced herself against the cold, it made her breath hitch and she tucked her hands inside her sleeves to keep them warm, resting her head against the door frame.

Sooyoung looked different from earlier. Her black jeans were blue and the top under her long black coat was white. When she noticed Jiwoo she looked up from her phone and in its light her lips looked a darker shade of red. Maybe she’d just reapplied, she probably had plans for the night, somewhere else to go. It was Sooyoung after all. 

“We were supposed to swap numbers,” she paused, “for the project?”

She'd forgotten all about it. Sooyoung’s eyes narrowed as she tried to piece her memories together. It was hard to think without her mind slipping to the letter and when it did that emptiness began to creep up on her again, draining her of energy and making it hard for her to breathe.

“Do you have your phone?” Sooyoung asked slowly.

She slid her hands in either side of her front pocket and they bumped in the middle, coming up empty. Her lips parted to actually say something, but Sooyoung was ahead of her.

“It’s fine, just put your number in and I’ll message you.” Sooyoung watched her carefully as she stepped forward and handed over her phone, like security eyeing someone they think could cause trouble.

She stared at the screen, the keypad already prepared, her name already written. All she had to do was tap her thumbs, enter the twelve numbers she knew instinctually, the only random collection of numbers she could reel off with ease. She watched the cursor blink, her mind was empty.

She couldn’t think of them.

“Is something wrong?” Sooyoung's words were uneasy, and she wasn’t looking at her suspiciously anymore. She was usually pretty hard to read but it was clear from the deep, deep, crease in her brow that she was completely confused, and it struck Jiwoo just how insane she must’ve looked, not being able to type in her own number. There’s not a person on the planet who doesn’t know their phone number.

“No, no,” She shook her head and faced the phone again, willing herself to recall them. There were thousands of places she’d given her number to without thinking: Nike, Adidas, Nordstrom, Victoria’s Secret, Levi’s, Urban Outfitters, Opening Ceremony, Van’s, Lyft, Uber, Best Buy, CVS, Whole Foods, Chipotle, why couldn't she remember it for Sooyoung?

Through sheer panic, the digits eventually emerged, and she tapped them slowly, hiding her relief as she handed the phone back. Sooyoung checked it over before she dropped it into her coat pocket, probably shocked it looked like an actual number and wasn't just _99999999_ to capacity.

“Is that everything?” It was a hopeful question, she didn't think she could hold back the tears for much longer.

“Yeah. I think so," Sooyoung dug her hands into her coat pockets and rocked backward, already beginning to retreat, "I’ll message you.”

“Yeah,” Jiwoo nodded. She forced herself to smile unsuccessfully, just the one corner managing to curve upward. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

With the door closed she was back to being alone.

The radio sang an old classic through the kitchen door, the telltale sign her Mom was starting dinner, switching from whatever news station her Dad usually tuned it to. The amber light glowed around the frame and she thought about going in there, waiting for her Mom to notice her, lower the volume and ask her what was wrong. Her stomach churned at the thought, the idea of saying the words out loud.

She couldn’t do it. Not yet.


	11. WEDNESDAY 13:47

She watched her coffee swirl, pale beige in a cardboard cup. Her fourth of the day, three quarters full because that was just how the machine in the cafeteria dispensed it. She hadn’t slept. She passed up dinner, told her Mom she didn’t feel well, and the quiet _okay_ returned through her door finally released the tears she hadn’t realized she was holding back. She buried herself in her pillow and the sadness lurched out of her like an exorcism. She thought maybe once the tears were out, drained and empty, she might settle. Her eyes got heavy, they stung with tiredness, but they never closed. Wide awake, staring into the abyss, she heard all the nighttime sounds she trained herself to filter out; her Dad getting in from work, the pigeons talking perched on top of her window, the garbage truck going house to house. She sank further into her pillow and watched the time at the top of her phone crawl toward seven. She thought for a moment about skipping school, asking for the day off but it would only draw everyone’s attention, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to make it through the rounds of _are you okay?, what’s wrong?, did something happen?_ without breaking down.

Throughout the day, she realized her sadness was like a tide inside her, coming and going. When it contracted she was herself again, looking for a fresh pack of coffee in the kitchen, trying to wade through the crowds of freshman excitedly getting off the bus, listening to a classmate bullshit their way through the answer, crossing paths with Sooyoung as they both took the same shortcut to the sports hall - Jiwoo arriving, Sooyoung leaving – her eyes returning to that steely gaze. Then the tide would come in, trying to find the right playlist, waiting to cross the road, swapping out books at her locker, when Heejin mentioned she’d been quiet in the chat, when Yerim laid out her plans for them to hangout at the pier when they finished for winter break ending the evening all together at Primo’s, the numbness washed over her and she was back in her room, reading the letter all over again. It was an endless, unpredictable push and pull.

“Phone!” Yerim held her hand out to Hyunjin, who lifted her head from her screen, confused, “You’re not listening.”

“I am.” Hyunjin was insistent.

Heejin quietly took a sharp intake of breath, leaning back in her chair. Hyunjin and Yerim were across from them but she was still trying to distance herself from the conflict. The confiscation routine wasn’t serious, but it always led to a minor argument that Hyunjin let Yerim win, only to spend the rest of the conversation teasing her.

“You were not.” Yerim's hand was still open.

“I was.”

“Then what’d I say?”

“You were talking about applying for the Masterclass.” There was defiance in Hyunjin’s answer, a little insulted she’d been wrongly accused.

“What about it?”

Hyunjin paused, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You said you’re not allowed phones and they make you put them in a locker.”

“Okay...you're good,” Yerim retracted her hand and Hyunjin returned to her screen, “so the phone thing is to keep you focused. You’re not allowed any distractions- “

“Why is that?”

Heejin's breath hitched and she sunk further into her chair. The game had begun, Yerim had accused Hyunjin of not listening and now she’d go overboard to prove that she was, interrupting her every five seconds.

“It’s for pro’s, so they expect you to have professional concentration levels-“

“And pro’s means professional?”

Yerim paused, trying not to sink to her level, “Yeah, it means professional.”

“Do you know how small the lockers for the phones are?”

Yerim watched Hyunjin until she felt her staring and looked back. Neither of them said a word, but Jiwoo assumed it was a silent truce, or Yerim giving her the signal that she was about to ignore every question Hyunjin asked.

“We hear the back in the next week, we think they could announce Friday, so…” She gasped and tapped her hand on the table, “we could celebrate together, I really like my beach idea.”

Jiwoo tried to agree but her head felt heavy as the tide returned. Yerim saw the shift.

“You’ll hear back soon.”

She had to remind herself that to everyone else she was still waiting, and she’d keep it that way until she could tell them. Just not yet.

Heejin turned to her quietly, “Still nothing?”

She shook her head and set her eyes on her coffee. She was firmly back in her room, back reading the letter. There was a space, a big space between the last sentence and the printed signature. They didn’t even give her a full page. She was tossed away in two paragraphs.

Yerim gasped again quieter this time and reached over toward her, tapping the table at lightning speed. She watched Yerim look out at the cafeteria then quickly fix her gaze on the table, bringing her arm in and settling herself like she hadn’t been about to jump out of her chair. Before she could ask what Yerim was doing, Sooyoung was beside them.

“Are you free tomorrow, to study?” She recognized Blue Sooyoung instantly, the glare like ice that made the entire action, approaching the table, asking the question, waiting for her answer seem like an inconvenience.

“In the library?”

Sooyoung just nodded, quietly.

“Yeah, of course.”

“See you tomorrow.” She was gone as quickly as she’d arrived, disappearing out of the cafeteria. Yerim’s jaw hit the table.

“You’re studying together?” She was grinning.

Jiwoo sighed at the tiled ceiling, “It's a project, we were put together."

“She came all the way over here just to ask you to study?” Yerim asked, eyebrows arched, knowing exactly what she was implying. Jiwoo wondered if she even meant it anymore or whether she’d just grown to enjoy tormenting her.

“What class?” Heejin asked.

“Doesn’t matter what class, they’re partners.”

“Literature.”

It was a tug-of-war, Yerim on one side, Heejin and Jiwoo on the other and Hyunjin on her phone.

Yerim pulled up Instagram, “You follow each other, she could have just messaged you.”

“Some people don’t reply.” Heejin offered and she nodded along, they were partners now.

“If that’s what you need to hear…”

“You know, I had a message from two weeks ago I just hadn’t replied to.” Heejin shared, surprised by her own behavior. Hyunjin glanced up from her phone, probably to prove she was listening, not wanting to be interrogated again.

Yerim leaned forward, “From who?”

“Some guy, saying I was good at guitar.”

“Did you reply?” Yerim's grin was back, excited by potential new gossip. Jiwoo was just grateful she’d moved on, grateful for Heejin's sacrifice whether it was intentional or not.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know… just didn’t want to.” Heejin shrugged.

“What’d he look like?”

“I didn’t look.”

“Even his profile?”

“He didn’t have one.”

“Oh, yeah that’s a creep.”

Hyunjin drifted back to her phone and Jiwoo decided to check her own, sliding it out of her pocket. She steadied herself when she saw three messages sitting on her home screen, all sent hours ago. No wonder she was blue today.

_Hey._  
 _It's Sooyoung.  
_ _Are you free to meet after school Thursday?_


	12. THURSDAY 15:22

The tide had pushed and pulled in her all day to the point of exhaustion. She had a substitute for algebra who assigned them two pages of a textbook to complete in silence. Heads were down and the room was quiet, and she realized that the tide coming in wasn’t a tide at all but more of a wave. Her breathing got shorter, tears welled, she was right on the edge of collapsing there and then in front of everyone. She wasn’t sure how she didn’t. When the bell rang she was first out of the classroom, avoided everyone in the hallway and kept her head down until she reached the library.

It was quiet, it had to be obviously, but there was usually more than two people in there. She had her choice of the study tables. They were in clear sight of the front desk and surrounded by the lower shelves that came about waist high and didn’t give you any privacy. Almost everyone bypassed them, walking to the back where individual desks and booths were hidden behind floor to ceiling shelves. She slumped into a seat at the table closest to the entrance. Sooyoung would find her right away and they could decide whether to move from there.

She considered messaging, to tell Sooyoung she was waiting. After ignoring her last texts she kind of owed it to her. Her phone pinged as she slipped it out of her pocket, piercing the silence. The lone librarian peaked round her desktop computer to offer a cautionary stare and she clicked her ringer off.

_what time am I getting y’all Friday?_ Heejin messaged.

It took her a second to piece together what she was talking about. When it clicked, her stomach twisted. She shuffled forward in her chair, her puffer jacket rustling loudly, she could feel the librarian’s eyes on her again. Between classes, at her locker, Heejin had asked again if she’d heard anything, after telling her about Jinsol's early acceptance into Berklee, and she’d lied again, shaking her head. Hyunjin jokingly asked her if she’d actually applied and she’d had to force out a laugh. The more time passed, the more suspicious they’d become, and their Friday hangouts were like a dedicated space for truth telling. They’d lie awake on the floor or packed onto a bed and as it crept toward morning they shared secrets and thoughts that could only live in the time between night and day. She could see it already, Yerim or Heejin asking her if she _really_ still hadn’t heard anything. She didn’t know whether she’d be able to keep up the lie.

_jiwoo first then_ _me then hyunjin._ Yerim answered.  
 _everyone still okay with that?_

She knew everyone meant her and quickly replied, _yeah!!!_ , dropping a shooting star emoji alongside it before putting her phone away.

Now she could focus on the work.

She propped her elbow on the table and rested her head against her hand. The clock ticked slowly toward half-past and she wondered if Sooyoung would show up at all. They hadn’t said a word to each other since the day before in the cafeteria. She was surprised Sooyoung had been so forward with the assignment, reaching out and asking to study. When they were put together she assumed she’d be the one doing the work, the one chasing her down not the other way around. No one really talked about Sooyoung as a student, but she’d seen her sitting with Jinsol and Jungeun, a green slip in one hand, a cigarette in the other, enough times that she assumed Sooyoung didn’t really care about school.

The heavy doors parted and someone that wasn’t Sooyoung slipped through. A Freshman, maybe Sophomore by the way he gripped his backpack tight and walked hurriedly with his elbows tucked to his side. The clock told her it had barely been two minutes since she’d last checked the time, it had to be a lie. She decided to give Sooyoung five more minutes and took out her notepad and a pen, realizing if she did show up, she'd find her sitting there idly, not even on her phone and it would probably leave the girl confused all over again.

The last page she’d used had been Tuesday and she flipped through lines and lines of black and blue ink, bright yellow and orange highlighter, lime green post-its. It was like looking at another version of herself, so eager and so hopeful. She couldn’t fight it, the letter re-emerged, carried by the incoming tide. _Our inability to select your application for admission is as much a loss for Brown as it is a gain for another college._ She was at her desk again, reading the line, the same thought pushing through. Another college. There were no other options. There was no other college. How could she have been that stupid?

She flipped to an empty page, and it struck her that she had nothing to offer Sooyoung. No assignment brief, no notes, no laptop, no textbook, no workbook, she didn’t have the book they were studying, she had nothing. The table rattled as she pushed away from it, swinging her backpack over one shoulder and clutching her notebook to her chest. She kept her head down, avoiding the librarian, and shouldered through the heavy wooden doors. She’d wait to see if Sooyoung even remembered their plans, and if she did, if she messaged to ask where she was, then she would tell her she was sick and suggest another time to meet up. Maybe she'd already messaged to say she couldn’t make it and Jiwoo had been so afraid of her phone she hadn’t seen it. She rounded the corner toward the fire exit at the back of the school. There was a slip of light between the two doors calling her to freedom.

She drew closer and then the doors were parting and there was Sooyoung, looking at her surprised, confused, a copy of their book in her hand.

“Could we reschedule?” The question rushed out without thinking, her brain going into full panic mode.

She’d been completely caught out.

Sooyoung scanned her, up and down, and she found herself staring at the floor, she just couldn't face those narrowed eyes again. She must’ve had a thousand questions, where she was going, why she was going there, how come she was nearly out of breath, but she didn’t ask any of them.

“Sure, some other time.”

The ease of her words brought Jiwoo back up and she wasn't met with suspicion or confusion, it was something else.

Sooyoung wet her lips. “Do you need a ride home?”


	13. THURSDAY 15:31

There was a third Sooyoung, she realized, not blue or pink, another color, red. Red Sooyoung was calm, relaxed, light. She walked with her hands buried in the pockets of her denim jacket and stayed a step ahead of her so she could clear the passenger side, throwing her coat and bag into the backseat and telling her she could do the same. From the driver's side, Sooyoung monitored her, one hand resting on the open door as she slid off her backpack and pulled off her coat and when she was down to the all black ensemble hidden underneath, a simple sweatshirt and jeans, Sooyoung lifted her brows as if to say _ready?_

She nodded and they both climbed into the car at the same time. She apologized for any mess – there wasn’t any just a reusable cup between their seats – and paused before starting the car to let Jiwoo connect to the speakers. She scrolled through her library, trying to find the perfect song. It felt like an important decision. Play something that’s too light and she’s the naïve, innocent kid everyone already thought she was, play something too obscure and it’s isolating, the song becomes background to the concern of whether or not anyone is actually enjoying it or worse, suddenly the question becomes why she picked the song and the lyrics take on a meaning they were never supposed to. She settled on a track near the top of her recently added. New music felt like the safest choice.

“This new?” Sooyoung asked. She held the wheel loosely, confidently and kept her eyes fixed on the road.

“Yeah.”

“It’s good.”

Sooyoung listened, feeling the song out. It didn’t feel real, from the moment Sooyoung had asked the question and she’d found herself saying _okay_ , it was like she was in a dream. The world outside was overcast, clouded and grey and she didn’t care. Sooyoung’s car was warm, and she’d listened to the song plenty, but it sounded different through her speakers, bigger and more emphatic.

“Just so you know,” Sooyoung trailed off as she changed lanes, keeping her concentration on the road. Once they were in the clear, she half turned to her, “we’re probably gonna fail this assignment.”

“Why?”

“Cause our teacher hates me.”

“She does?”

“Yeah, she likes you though so... might balance out,” she shrugged.

She thought about telling Sooyoung she was technically failing the class, it might have made her feel better. Maybe she was right, and their teacher really did dislike her, maybe when she kept her behind and handed her that green slip she told her she’d partnered them on purpose, so Sooyoung would fail. It would explain why she was so anxious to start.

“I don’t think she likes any of us...I think she just puts up with us.” Her voice came out flatter, more hollow than she expected.

“Have you noticed she sighs all the time? Before everything she says?” Sooyoung looked at her, a smile tugging at her lips. 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Sooyoung lifted her shoulders, dropped them emphatically with a loud exhale, “Sooyoung, this work isn’t good enough.”

She lifted and dropped harder, exhaled deeper, “Jiwoo.”

Sooyoung was straight-faced, stern, but with no real intensity.

“Me?” She pointed to herself. It came naturally to play along, like she was back in middle school. It was just fun.

“Yes. You. I expect much better from you.” Sooyoung turned back to the road, sighing again, even bigger this time and raised her voice, “Class!”

It jolted her and suddenly she was laughing as Sooyoung yelled at the traffic, “We’re supposed to be working.”

It was a pinpoint impression, the voice, the intonation and the sighing which she knew she wouldn’t be able to ignore next time they were in the classroom.

Sooyoung smiled, “You never noticed?”

“No.” She was smiling too.

“She does it all the time, look out for it.”

Sooyoung shifted her focus back on the road and Jiwoo watched the world out of the passenger window. The weather meant the streets were sparse just heavy coats, even some scarves and hats, bunched up and walking with their heads down. The beach was even emptier, just a few far away figures dotting the long stretches of caramel sand.

“I was gonna get a coffee, if that's okay? Just drive-through…You can say no.”

She thought about going home, to her parents, to her dark room, to her phone, to messages on messages about Friday.

“Sure, yeah.”

“Sure.” Sooyoung repeated it with a smile and the car felt warmer. 

The line at the coffee place had been modest, and they’d inched toward the serving window with the music at a simmer. Sooyoung held the wheel casually, her hands at five and seven and wouldn’t let her not order anything. _Seriously it’s fine, what do you usually get?_

She wanted to tell her the last coffee she had was lukewarm, tasted like dishwater and made her heart race so fast she had to grip the desk to stay steady. Instead she said a latte, _a vanilla latte_ and Sooyoung ordered two, one regular and one with oat milk. They passed by the menu and Sooyoung wound her window down, tilting her head out and announcing the place was already serving seasonal drinks. She ordered a gingerbread latte and an eggnog latte and parked up, with Jiwoo's consent, because _we should try at least one of these coffees._

The parking lot was lit by a single streetlight which shone down on two already occupied spaces and left everyone else in the dark. Sooyoung guided them to an empty spot and flipped on the overhead lights, casting a dim yellow beam between them. Jiwoo had never sat in a car with anyone other than her friends or her parents. Looking out the windshield, at the darkening sky and the bushes that surrounded the lot, littered with empty cups, she was reminded of movie theatres just before the movie began. The soft music, the stillness, the quietness that isn’t mandatory until the room goes dark, but that everyone has silently agreed to. The faint flutter of anticipation.

“Okay,” Sooyoung unbuckled her seatbelt and picked up both of the seasonal drinks turning to her and dancing each cup up and down, “Which one?”

She held herself seriously, as though the decision was life or death but there was a playfulness there and Jiwoo couldn't help joining in, drawing a breath and narrowing her eyes.

She pretended to weigh her options, playing out the moment for as long as possible. “It’s a hard decision…."

"Yeah."

"...I think I’m gonna have to go gingerbread.”

Sooyoung exhaled as if to say _heavy choice_ and handed it over. She played the moment for maximum drama, slowly bringing the cup to her lips, keeping her eyes on Sooyoung. Her acting was better, watching Jiwoo tense with anticipation, she hadn’t even blinked. Jiwoo tilted the cup and took a sip.

It wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. She shook her head and grimaced as it went down, the syrup staining her mouth.

Sooyoung didn't try to hide her laughter, “Was it bad?”

“You try it.”

She pushed the cup toward Sooyoung, trying to force it into her hands and she laughed harder, batting it away, shaking her head, “I can’t, it has dairy in it.”

She froze, trying her best for one of Sooyoung's icy glares. She’d been played. Sooyoung had played her. She wasn't to know Jiwoo would hate them, but she must've bought them for the possibility she would, pranked her like they were five years old. 

“Here, try the other one.” She offered the second drink up, failing to keep a straight face.

“No!” Jiwoo laughed, there was fire in her eyes, but she wasn’t angry. She was in disbelief. Whatever game they were playing had shifted, now it was who could play the part of ‘incensed girl in car’ better. Their voices growing louder and louder as the exchange went on, neither making it through a full sentence without breaking.

“Drink it!”

“No!”

“I paid five dollars for it!”

“I didn’t ask you to buy them!” Jiwoo burned her lungs, yelling uninhibited and Sooyoung pulled away, hands shooting to her ears, laughing through her shock. She let her recover, let a quiet settle, before she spoke again. "Sorry."

"You win." She put her hands up in surrender and her laughter faded, settled to a smile and Jiwoo was smiling back again.

A phone buzzed and the real world broke back through. She patted her pocket but she should've known from the ringtone that it wasn't hers.

She turned away, trying to give Sooyoung some privacy. The music felt louder now, the air was colder, she could hear the tread of tires rounding the store to the collection window and car horns from the far away traffic. Suddenly she was conscious of her hands and she slipped them underneath her thighs rubbing her thumbs along denim.

It wasn't until the music switched track and that she realised Sooyoung wasn’t talking. She sneaked a glance and saw the girl hunched over her phone, forehead almost bumping the steering wheel. Her hair had fallen forward, disguising her expression but she could see grey messages stacking up on her screen, her thumbs hovering over a reply. Maybe she felt her watching or maybe she had nothing to say to the grey boxes, but her thumb slipped to the lock button and the screen turned black.

“You okay to go?” Her voice came out quiet. 

“Yeah, it’s getting late.” It was an excuse, she figured it was what she needed to say, what Sooyoung wanted to hear so she could agree, reignite the car and turn the music up loud enough that neither of them needed to talk.

She offered one final joke as she pulled onto their road, a token Jiwoo thought, to remind her she hadn’t imagined the whole thing.

She slowed, almost to a stop and stooped to look out the window. “Which ones yours?”

The question was deadpan but the spark was back, the knowing look to tell her she wasn’t serious.

“I'm just there.” 

“It’s nice.”

“Yeah. Thank you, for the ride.”

“You're welcome.”

She walked to her door, her backpack slung over one shoulder and her coat in her hands. She didn’t hear Sooyoung pull away, roll the whole ten yards to her own house until she’d made it inside. Her mom called out to her from the living room, likely prepared with a stack of questions about where she was and who she was with. She avoided her and dragged herself to her room.

It was barely six-thirty after she had washed and changed into her pajamas, but she was exhausted. She collapsed on top of her sheets and trailed the cracks in the ceiling that used to scare her. Now she found them comforting. It wasn’t until that moment, lying in silence, just her and her thoughts, that the tide crept back in and her eyes stung with tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to the song Jiwoo picked: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xsb9flAEymA


	14. FRIDAY 1:12

She didn’t understand how she could feel so empty, so drained of energy but be so completely unable to sleep. She would close her eyes, pull her covers tight under her chin but nothing would come and moments later she was on her phone, just hoping her body would eventually give in.

She now knew the lives of her family, friends and acquaintances better than ever, tapping and scrolling through every update. Her cousin had got a dog, a dachshund named Sagan, that loved to fall asleep in her boyfriend’s arms; a girl from middle school got a tattoo of the Venus symbol and a helix piercing she was scared might be infected; Heejin had partly learned the main riff of Cruel and hadn’t responded to her teasing message that she was welcome for the suggestion. It wasn’t intentional, Heejin always took a minimum three days to respond to most messages.

At the top of her feed, Jinsol’s icon slid to the front of the stories line, lit up with the promise of distraction. She clicked, grateful to see an army of dashed lines appear and tapped through them mindlessly:

Jungeun talking, unaware of the camera, walking Jinsol through directions to an unknown destination, _you stay on the PCH for quite a long time._   
Jinsol staring at her phone bored while Jungeun continues.  
Jinsol swaying to music, calling Jungeun's name and pushing up close to her despite her protests until they’re both in frame, Jinsol already fully made up while Jungeun's still getting ready.  
Jinsol selfies.  
Jinsol with Jungeun.   
Jinsol swaying to different music in a different place, a half full living room with a red cup in her hand.

She lingered on the last video, tapping to replay it. Jinsol swayed again, a drunken smile on her face, the bass bursting through. She tapped back again, Jinsol swayed again and so did everyone else on the makeshift dance floor behind her. She played it again, recognizing the jacket that slipped into frame as Jinsol rocked the camera side to side. She played it again, the blue denim that had been sat beside her hours earlier. She tapped back, played it for a sixth time, Sooyoung with a girl. A seventh time, Sooyoung with her hands on the girl’s hips. The story continued playing, Jinsol zoomed in and out on Jungeun trying to make a decision at a coffee table stacked with bottles. Jiwoo wasn’t paying attention anymore.

She was back in the passenger seat, watching Sooyoung drive with an easy smile. Of all the rumors that went around school about Sooyoung, her being polite, being attentive, being fun, never came up. She wondered how many people knew that side of her, how many people got to see Red Sooyoung? Maybe that was how she was around her friends. If the car ride was what being friends with Sooyoung felt like, then maybe she’d like to be friends with Sooyoung.


	15. FRIDAY 7:45

She had watched her curtains brighten, her room slowly fill with dim light, had listened to the birds talk and cars ignite before they faded away. The new day had slowly washed over her, it felt like a threat.

She crept downstairs just after seven, when she knew her Mom would be in the kitchen, checking her emails on her phone with her first coffee of the day. She hadn’t lied to her, not completely, just rested her head against the door frame, shifted her gaze between the floor and her Mom’s knowing eyes.

 _I don’t think I can school today_.

It was the closest she had come to telling someone the truth. Maybe her Mom could see that. For once, she didn’t ask any follow ups, just said _okay_ , told her she’d call the school and that was it.

She climbed back into bed and felt herself close to tears again. It was too easy. Her Mom must've known something wasn’t right and surely she wouldn’t put up with _I’ll eat later, I can’t talk, I’m busy, I need to study, I have to read this, I’m fine,_ for much longer.

“Jiwoo?” Her Mom’s voice was quiet, delicate from the other side of the door. She closed her eyes and gripped her covers. The hinges creaked and there was a familiar soft drag on the carpet. She knew how her Mom would be looking at her, like she was fragile, like she was eight years old again, wanting to press a hand to her forehead, hold her tight and say she’ll feel better soon. She squeezed her eyes tighter. A few moments later her door slipped closed again.

She repeated the only thing that could ease the tide as it spilled into tears, she would tell her soon, she would tell everyone soon.

Just not yet.


	16. FRIDAY 13:25

She didn’t know when she fell asleep, sometime after her Mom left for work, after she took the aspirin and drank the water she left on her nightstand. She didn’t really have a headache, but she knew aspirin could make you drowsy and maybe that was why she’d managed an hour or two’s rest.

She hadn’t moved from her bed since the morning, the most she’d done was roll from one side to another to get better signal while she scrolled through Twitter. Being under the sheets for so long had started to make her feel feverish and she couldn’t tell if she was actually getting sick or if she was just convincing herself she was. The longer she lay in bed the more her energy drained, the more her ability to do anything went away.

It reminded her of her longest stay in hospital, her only surgery, when she was thirteen. One minute she was playing flinch with Hyunjin, the next minute she was bent over, feeling like something was trying to tear out of her body. She spent five days in a hospital bed and by the end of day one she felt so drained, so tired from lying down for twelve hours she could barely make it to the bathroom. She wished her appendix could have held out for a few more years, that she could’ve rushed downstairs this morning and told her Mom she was in the worst pain she’d ever experienced. There would’ve been no knowing look, no barely contained concern, just panic and action and she could’ve spent five days somewhere else, where every decision was made for her and she got ice cream.

She pulled her feed down and released, three new tweets sprung up.

_coconut is trash.  
_ _everything is garbage but at least the weather is also shit.  
_ _i’ve had the same eyebrows since I was born._

Boredom, that’s what it was, an overwhelming boredom, she’d lost the ability to think, all she could do was stare blankly and hope for a spark.

New messages overlapped at the top of her screen and, like a robot, she clicked through to them.

_Jiwoo u not in today?_ From Heejin. Sent around ten, when she was sleeping.

_please don’t tell me ur sick._ From Yerim. Just sent.  
Then a follow up, _can you make it tonight??_

Another from Heejin, _i can still come get you._

Her heart picked up. She didn’t want to lie, she was sick of it but she wasn’t in the right place to see them. She’d be quiet and detached and it would ruin the evening for everyone else, dragging it down to her level. It wasn’t fair.

_sick and contagious  
_ _don’t wanna make you all get it too_

She followed it with every sad face emoji she could find. Yerim messaged back immediately.

_all missing u._

She followed it with a flood of hearts. Jiwoo could see them in the cafeteria, at their regular table, in their usual spots, talking and texting.

_miss you too._

As soon as she pressed send, it was like reality set in all over again. The floodgates reopened, tears spilled over and she buried herself in her pillow.


	17. FRIDAY 23:53

There were details from Thursday night she couldn’t tell were imagined or remembered. Sooyoung pulling her sleeves up to drive, the two small hoops in the top of her ear, glancing her way when it got quiet like she was checking on her, humming along to the songs she knew and actually listening to the ones she didn’t, her perfume, surprisingly light and floral and the background of her lock screen, a picture she recognized but didn’t really know. It was comforting, occupying herself with the few hours they’d spent together.

After drifting in and out of sleep most of the afternoon, she worked up the energy to cross to her desk and bring her laptop back to bed. She was trying to find anything that might distract her. She watched enough Song Association she could probably get a perfect score and enough Verified she could recall in depth the meaning to every lyric in _Do It_ or _XS._ Suddenly it was six and her Mom was home, asking if she could eat. She wanted to, but her Mom would make them eat together so instead she was too sick to have an appetite. Another set of videos and suddenly it was night, she could just make out the glowing rings of the streetlights through her curtains and the faint sounds of her Mom catching up on the week’s TV. Friday nights were some of the busiest for her Dad, he wouldn’t be back until well after midnight, she hoped she wouldn’t be awake to hear him come in.

After YouTube, she needed something else, so she tried Netflix, then Disney +, back to Netflix, back to YouTube, Her Mom’s Prime account then back to Netflix. She found it accidentally, the thumbnail was just resting in recently added and immediately caught her eye. If she’d had the energy to gasp she would’ve, instead her mouth parted but nothing came out and her heart raced. A girl in a yellow top with short hair, leaning on a silver surface, resting on her hands and looking out like she was daydreaming. It was the picture she’d seen on Sooyoung’s phone, the same one exactly. A movie must mean a lot to someone, or at least mean something, for them to put it as their lock screen.

She pressed play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the movie Jiwoo's watching: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IAH-0GKvIrM


	18. SUNDAY 10:00

She stayed in her room most of Saturday, emerged briefly in the afternoon to grab a water from the fridge, a banana from the fruit bowl and to assure her Mom she was okay. She watched Sooyoung’s movie for a second time. It made her feel better. She had a favorite scene now, when the girl in yellow leaned over the bar and said she liked loud music, that it made her not have to think. Later she put her headphones over her ears and turned her music full volume, letting it shuffle around. She pictured herself in different places for each new song and imagined making her own music, how it would feel to know something she created could make someone feel better or not have to think about what was making them feel bad.

The tide was out when she woke up in the morning, the closest she’d come to a regular night’s sleep in what felt like a lifetime. She lumbered downstairs, still in her pajamas - a Britney Spears t-shirt she accidentally ordered in large that came to just above her knees and a pair of black cotton shorts. She found her Dad where he was every Sunday morning, in the kitchen, at the table, with a coffee made in his beloved moka pot and the newspaper which he would read front to back, luxuriating in his one day off. It was the routine and it made her feel normal again. He smiled over his newspaper as she sat across from him and the wave of relief made her feel brave enough to check her phone.

She opened Hyunjin’s snapchat, which had always been more like a fly on the wall Heejin documentary and still was:

Heejin explaining a movie.   
Heejin explaining a movie not realizing there was a filter on her until the camera dipped as Hyunjin laughed and out of frame there was a low accusatory voice, _you put a filter on me?_   
More Heejin, falling asleep, and the next day Heejin at Primo’s defending herself with her hands cupping her black americano, _I fell asleep after you_.   
Finally, there was a reprieve, a view of the other side, of Yerim, indignant, with a half full frappe in front of her, _no you fell asleep first, you did._

Jiwoo was there, in the empty seat, watching Yerim and Heejin go back and forth, catching Hyunjin’s eye, both of them trying to contain their laughter. She missed them.

“Coffee’s good.” Her Dad pushed out of his chair, clicked the stove on and set up for a second cup. He turned, resting his back against the counter, and paused on her. 

She watched the hesitancy pass over him, his eyes saying everything before he even opened his mouth. The tide began to filter back in, just like that. Whatever high she was on faded away, making her fall back to reality. The all too familiar feeling of her stomach getting tighter and tighter, her throat closing up.

“What happened to that letter of yours?” He turned back to the stove, monitoring his coffee and Jiwoo turned back to denial, back to lying.

“It was just a brochure.”

She stared at her phone, hoping her Dad would think she was busy and drop the subject. Her head was ringing. His question had come out so rehearsed, she suddenly had thoughts of her Mom and Dad talking about it, filling in the gaps. Maybe they already knew. She’d avoided both her parents well enough they hadn’t had time to resume their interrogation all those days ago, when she was just upset over a failing grade.

“I’m sure you’ll hear soon.” He clicked the stove off and poured his coffee, renewed the scent filling the kitchen.

“Yeah.” She said it quietly into her phone. Maybe she was better off in bed.

The doorbell was a welcome interruption.

“Your mother.” Her Dad raised his eyebrows and brought his coffee with him to the front door.

The kitchen was about to get chaotic, complaints about the supermarket, it’s servers, the customers, it’s lack of choices, what her Mom could find, what she couldn’t. There would be bags unloaded everywhere and slowly put away in the right places. Jiwoo could unpack the shopping but the putting away was too complicated, too specific. Her Dad called it mise-en-place, her Mom called him pretentious and said it was called organization and Jiwoo learned it was best to sit aside and let them play out their little routine.

“They didn’t have the red we had last week.” Her Mom talked over her shoulder, two heavy bags in each hand.

“No?” Her Dad followed in, just the one bag and his coffee.

“No. And you should’ve seen it, a woman buying a bar’s worth of spirits,” she tilted her head, not needing to voice the obvious accusation, “at nine in the morning. So sad.”

She placed a bottle on the table, too close to her. It was black, with a white label that said Pinot Noir. As everything else was neatly put away, the wine remained, and it started to become ominous. She wanted to ask what it was for, but a part of her already knew, so she stayed quiet and hoped she was wrong.

“Do you have next door’s invitation?” Her Mom twisted the bottle to read the label, while her Dad packed the empty grocery bags away, one inside the other like a Russian Doll.

“Yes,” he wagged his finger, letting it guide him from the fridge, to the counter, until he remembered, “Ah! Here.”

He slipped a beige card, neatly folded over, from a stack on the counter and her Mom rested it against the bottle, gold lettering spelling, _RSVP_. She knew it was a gift for someone, but it had slipped her mind that it would come with an invitation. Suddenly it struck her how close they were to the holiday season, Christmas was right around the corner and that could only mean one thing.

Her parent’s annual Christmas party had started the year after they moved in. The whole street and all their friends far and wide were welcomed into their home for one night. Her Dad would close the restaurant and cater the party and her Mom would buy an impossibly large amount of alcohol that was somehow always gone the next morning. There’d be paper plates and plastic champagne flutes and so many academics in blazers with elbow patches that she'd get confused which ones she’d politely made conversation with and which ones she hadn’t. Her parents let her invite friends, Hyunjin came every year with her family, and Heejin and Yerim had both been once. It wasn’t that they didn’t enjoy themselves, just that it usually fell at the exact same time as everyone else’s family traditions.

Every year, guests were given a special request, to bring something or prepare something, her favorite was when the invite told everyone to familiarize themselves with a song, any song they like and when they were all drunk enough, a projector and a screen were set up for one of the worst karaoke sessions she’d ever seen.

Her Dad continued to reorganize the fridge and her Mom left with everything she’d bought for the bathroom. Jiwoo crept her hand over and lifted up the invitation to peak the instruction for this year’s party. She hoped it’d be singing again, maybe this time she’d film it, future blackmail material.

_A book, any book you like._ Not as fun but it made sense, a lot of the people invited worked in schools, universities or were a part of her Mom’s book club anyway. She tilted the card further open and her Mom’s neatest cursive revealed who it was addressed to.

Sooyoung had only shown up once, the first year her and her Mom had moved in. She remembered seeing Sooyoung standing awkwardly beside her Mom and considered going over, asking her if she wanted a drink, secretly rescuing her from the boring conversation. Instead Hyunjin tugged her sleeve, quietly telling her she wanted out of the boring conversation she was trapped in and Jiwoo loudly pretended there was something they had to do, pulled them into another room. She didn’t see Sooyoung again for the rest of the night or at any of the parties since.

“Jiwoo? Could you bring those next door?” Her Mom asked, coming back into the room.

She put the newspaper aside, the signal that the calm Sunday morning was transitioning to a slightly busier Sunday afternoon, where her Mom prepared food for them and for her own Dad, which she brought over half done and finished while they caught up on each other’s weeks.

“Now? I’m not dressed.” She looked down at her pajamas, imagined putting on her slides and going next door as she was. Sooyoung would laugh at her, who wouldn't?

“Can I go later?”

“Later means never. It’ll take you five minutes.” Her Mom had seen right through her.

Later meant she’d go to her room and hope her Mom got so frustrated seeing the bottle and the invitation still patiently waiting to be taken round she’d just do it herself.

“Jiwoo.” She tilted her head, staring down at her. All she needed was to point the knife in her hand her way and it would’ve been a real threat.

She gave in.

“Fine.”

She quickly pulled on sweats, tucked in her long t-shirt and buried everything under a white puffer jacket and a cap. She told herself it was nothing, just another trip next door, forced to be there by her parents, but her body reacted where her mind refused to and the nerves crept up on her.

Everything would be easier if Sooyoung’s Mom answered the door, Jiwoo would remove her cap to be polite and hand everything over to her with a smile. She’d ask about her day and make a quick exit, go back home to satisfied parents. Except that she knew once she was back in her room, free of any family duties, she’d think about what would’ve happened if Sooyoung had answered and secretly wish she had, for no other reason than to see her and to know that Sooyoung saw her.

She pushed the doorbell and waited. There was quick thumps on the stairs and light footsteps and then, there was Sooyoung.

“Hey.”

“Hey. These are for you, I’m not sure what the wine’s for.” She passed the delivery over and Sooyoung turned the bottle in her hand, reading the label. She didn’t imagine she’d be the type to drink wine and she was pretty sure she was right when Sooyoung shrugged to say _this means nothing to me._

“I’m sure she’ll know.”

“Yeah.”

She couldn’t tell which Sooyoung she was talking to. She was dressed casually again, not crop-top levels, but still relaxed, a white t-shirt and blue jeans folded over at the waist. She hadn’t seemed happy to see her, but she wasn’t mad about it either. She’d been surprised more than anything at first, but it settled to nothing, neutral, like she was talking to any other delivery person, a short stop before she continued with the rest of her day.

“Are you free Wednesday?”

“Wednesday?”

“Yeah,” Sooyoung paused, “to study.”

Of course to study. It had slipped her mind, the reason Sooyoung was talking to her in the first place.

“Yeah, definitely. The library again?"

“Sure,” she leaned against the door frame. “Or we could study here if you want? After school, I can give you a ride home.”

It came out so casual, like Sooyoung inviting her round was just the polite thing to do. Like she’d ever been past the doorstep. Her thoughts immediately went back to their last study session, the ease, the fun. She was smiling.

“Okay.”

“Okay...see you Wednesday?”

“Wednesday.”

Maybe friends wasn’t as much of a dream as it seemed.


	19. MONDAY 08:45

Jiwoo had never been stared at for listening to music too loud before. She usually played songs at a comfortable volume, enough so that she could hear traffic, or someone calling her name, to be aware of her surroundings. She could see the hallway, lockers opening and closing, students collecting books for first period, catching up on each other’s weekends, dodging through the crowds with purpose, but she couldn’t hear any of it. Her music was blaring, and she didn’t care about the judgmental eyes, people hearing what she was hearing note for note, beat for beat, lyric for lyric. She needed it.

That morning, sat in front of her mirror, it had taken her a second to recognize herself. What she was keeping inside wasn’t staying inside, her eyes were getting heavier and she’d broken out on her chin. There was only so much concealer could do. She put in her airpods, tapped play on the first playlist she saw and slid the volume higher and higher and when it couldn’t go any further she closed her eyes. No thinking. She opened them and finished getting ready, pulled on jeans, any t-shirt she could find and blue wool cardigan that kept her extra warm under her coat during the walk to school.

Through the crowds, she spotted converse, black skinny jeans and the bottom of a green plaid shirt, the rest disguised by their locker door. One from the top, number 57, Heejin. She’d messaged her friends briefly on Sunday to say she was feeling better and they’d responded one at time.

_yaaaaaayyy!!_ From Heejin.  
 _glad to hear it._ From Hyunjin.  
 _missed you._ Yerim eventually followed.

She paused her music and pushed through a crowd of over excited seniors. Heejin swung her locker shut and Jiwoo practically jumped into the hug, burying herself in her friends shoulder, almost sending them both to the floor. In the moment it was all she could think to do.

“Are you still contagious?” Heejin laughed, slowly wrapping a hand round her back and patting her on the head.

She shook her head no and Heejin's hand came to a rest, thumb lightly stroking her hair. To anyone else in the hallway it probably looked like she was breaking down and she might have been. If Heejin had just asked _how are you?_ she didn’t think she had much strength left to lie, but that didn’t mean she would tell the truth, she would likely just sob, hoping Heejin would put two and two together so she didn’t have to say anything.

“It must’ve been annoying, getting sick over the weekend and getting better just in time for school.”

Jiwoo nodded into her shoulder.

“You know-did you see what Yerim posted?” Heejin asked and Jiwoo pushed herself out of the hug.

“No.” She blinked, re-adjusting to the light. She hadn’t looked at anything but messenger since Sunday morning. She’d become used to averting her eyes as she unlocked her phone, avoiding any notifications.

“Oh, well...it’s not really my news to tell but everyone knows now so…” Heejin rubbed at her neck, “She got into the Masterclass.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. She found out on Sunday.”

“Why didn’t she say anything?”

“Well, we were together so-and I think she did. On her story.”

Jiwoo didn’t know what to say. She’d dropped out of plans, dropped out of the chat, kept dropping out of conversations and now she’d missed this. It was Yerim’s moment. It meant the world to her and she wasn’t there, she hadn’t said a thing to her.

“Is she mad at me, for missing it?”

“No,” Heejin was trying to be nice, protect her, but she couldn’t even look her in the eyes. Jiwoo knew she was lying, “you should say something maybe.”

“Yeah.”

It was hard to get the image out of her mind. The three of them at Primo’s, celebrating Yerim’s news. She wouldn’t have stopped talking about it, would’ve wasted a good four dollars on a drink she didn’t touch, would’ve already been planning how she was going to stand out, the youngest of everyone there, the underdog who would come out top of the class.

She always messaged Jiwoo about the smallest things, there wasn’t one photo on her entire feed Yerim hadn’t commented some kind of heart on. When she'd sent out her early application she posted the confirmation on Snapchat and her phone buzzed seconds later:

_can’t believe you didn’t tell me u sent it  
_ _so proud of you  
_ _love u love u love u love u love u_

Her chest stabbed with pain, with guilt. She should’ve been there.


	20. MONDAY 19:22

Scrolling back in her camera roll wasn’t as painful as she thought it would be. It was almost comforting. Yerim had missed school, a dentist appointment, Heejin told her in the cafeteria, another update she had no clue about. She used the time to collect together old photos and videos, a history of Yerim as a dancer through her own lens. Dancing at parties, which was more just drunkenly jumping, dancing in the car, which was more arm waving and yelling, Yerim’s own improvised choreography which she couldn’t perform without dropping to the floor laughing. She finished with videos from the dance studio, the side of Yerim she sometimes forgot about when the girl talked non-stop about anything and everything happening in the school. She worked hard, she was talented beyond her years, she earned the top spot and she deserved it. Writing the message was easy.

_best dancer, best friend, best girl. all your dreams are coming true and I couldn’t think of anyone in the whole world, in the whole universe who deserves it more. love you love you love you love you._

She tapped out a line of red hearts, tagged Yerim and pressed send. It was a gesture she had to make; it’s what she would’ve done for her. The only like she wanted to see came through immediately along with a comment.

_love u love u love u love u._

She took out her phone and tapped a message privately.

_sorry i missed it  
im the worst  
_ _wish i could’ve been there_

It was the truth. She just wanted everything to be normal again. 

_if you’d come i would’ve been sick when i got the news  
_ _would’ve been mad at u forever  
_ _guess you’ll have to make it up to me_

She smiled. She wanted nothing more than to hang out, just the two of them. They could talk for hours and not get tired, stay at any cafe, any bar, any restaurant until closing and still have more to say. They once stayed talking in an Uber for so long, not realizing he'd stopped, that they'd arrived at the restaurant, he gave Jiwoo a three star rating and Yerim felt so bad she paid for for everything. 

_go somewhere after school??_  
_you can tell me everything about it  
_ _i wanna know_

_am I paying?_

_no._ She threw in an eye roll for good measure.

_wednesday?_

Jiwoo smiled, she couldn’t wait.

_hell mf yeah!!!!_


	21. WEDNESDAY 15:29

She couldn’t feel her hands anymore. She’d barely been outside five minutes, but it was long enough for her to realize only bringing a jacket was a mistake. She zipped it up, pulled her hands inside her sleeves and watched the football team run their drills, red and black figures jogging from one side of the field to the other, painful, but at least they were warm.

She hadn’t felt the cold during the day. Since the morning she’d been unattached to everything but the time.

Her phone had glowed next to the mirror she’d propped on her desk. Lost in her own reflection, she checked it casually, expecting another update from Heejin who’d messaged her five minutes earlier, _woke up too early by accident, need a ride to school?_

She’d forgotten to add the number to her contacts, but looking at the message she knew who it was, the surprise made her heart jolt.

_still studying today?_

She managed a reply, thumbs hitting out a simple, _yeah!_ and she added Sooyoung to her phone. Just her name, no parenthetical, no emoji, just Sooyoung.

_cool  
_ _see you after school_

Like that, her day became a countdown. She threw her cardigan back in the closet and tucked a white Levi’s t-shirt into blue jeans, flat ironed her hair and picked out a gold crescent moon necklace - a present from Yerim. It wasn’t dressing up, just making an effort, the polite thing to do. She grabbed a zip up hoodie, one of Hyunjin’s, on the way out.

During the drive over Heejin brought up college again, _it’s pretty stressful right?_ and she had to bat off more questions about Brown, _still nothing?,_ all the while clicking her lock screen on and off, willing the numbers to change with each flicker. Six hours to go.

She lifted her head to glance the clock so much during class her teacher called her aside after to talk to her about looking at other students work. Five hours to go.

She slipped her phone from her pocket in the hallway, four hours to go.

In the cafeteria, three hours to go.

In the bathroom, two hours to go.

She waited and waited for the right numbers to finally show up.

She hadn’t seen Sooyoung at all, the only clue she was actually there was another message during lunch to say she was parked round the back. She didn’t know why she wanted to see her when she knew they’d be meeting after. Maybe a part of her wanted to see if Sooyoung looked like she’d dressed up or maybe if she saw her she’d be able to tell which Sooyoung she’d be studying with. Maybe she wanted to see her the way a woman longs to see another woman in a room full of men, or the way a person longs to see a friend at a party full of strangers, for comfort, for connection, to look at one another and know you share something no one else in the room does.

The football team had stopped running and gathered around a figure dressed all in black. She wondered if they could see her like she could see them, if they thought she was a dedicated fan, showing up to watch their practice but keeping her distance at the top of the wide concrete steps instead of the bleachers. There was no other reason for her to be there, nobody really used the back of the school unless they were sports oriented. It was where coaches parked on away days, a slim space to hover while people jumped in or out. When Hyunjin had to return AV equipment, Heejin would back up as close as she could and leave the engine running while they went back and forth with heavy bags. Yerim mentioned it was the choice smoking spot, the only teachers around were the gym teachers and if you weren’t a student athlete you were invisible to them. Maybe that’s why Sooyoung had chosen to park there, it was the best place for a smoke break.

When she’d thought about meeting after school, she imagined pushing through the doors and finding Sooyoung leaning up against her car, waiting for her. Instead, it was parked quietly and Sooyoung was nowhere to be seen. It always surprised her how normal the car was, she thought Sooyoung might be the type to drive something impractical, that was more of a status symbol, like some of the really rich kids did, but she didn’t. Her car was normal, regular sized, silver, and said Ford on the front.

The back doors rattled, and Sooyoung pushed through, stopping next to her on the steps, her dark cropped fleece zipped to her chin. She hooked her hands around the straps of her backpack and offered a small smile. Jiwoo recognized Red Sooyoung instantly and she felt herself settle.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

They went through the same steps from last time. The clearing of the passenger side - her side - telling her to throw whatever she didn’t want in the back, apologizing for any litter, waiting so they both sat down at the same time, letting her connect her music. They almost had their own routine.

She tapped a beat on the steering wheel, while Jiwoo scrolled through her library.

“Am I okay to make one stop before we study?” She smiled, “No coffee, I promise”

Jiwoo smiled too, “Sure.”


	22. WEDNESDAY 15:44

They parked in a lot off the highway, outside a row of worn-down storefronts, a sushi place, a nail bar, a building she only recognized as a restaurant because of a small sign out front that said ALL YOU CAN EAT FOR $13. Sooyoung jumped out with her backpack on, said she’d be five minutes and disappeared behind the stores.

Jiwoo turned on her data, hoping to scroll through something while she waited, Twitter maybe, she hadn’t really been looking at the news recently, and a stack of messages interrupted.

_waiting out front  
_ _i need tacos and agua fresca_  
_stuck in class??  
_ _you still here?_

Her stomach dropped. She felt numb looking at her screen. If she wasn’t sitting down her legs would’ve buckled. Yerim. She’d forgotten about their plans. Completely forgotten. Now Yerim was probably waiting for her out front, mad and cold and annoyed. She didn’t know what to say, no excuse felt good enough and the truth felt like the worst possible thing she could tell her.

The driver door opened and Sooyoung slipped back into the car.

“You okay?”

She shook her head, resetting herself and forced out a smile. “Yeah.”

Sooyoung toyed with the zip on her backpack, pulling it back and forth, “Is it cool if I roll?”

It took her a second to get her head around the question, then she felt stupid for not remembering it was rare to see Sooyoung without a cigarette in her hand.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Really?”

“I don’t mind.”

She felt like an idiot all over again when Sooyoung unzipped her backpack, took out a small black tin and she was hit the scent that filtered in through her window most evenings. She put the pieces together, why they’d parked in the middle of nowhere, where Sooyoung had disappeared to. It didn’t bother her, just reminded her how little she’d done in high school compared to everyone else.

She tried not to stare at the whole process. It was pretty methodical, calming almost, it reminded her of chemistry class, the small-scale experiments they let you do. She watched Sooyoung twist the lid of a black container back and forth then carefully tap the remnants onto a sheet of brown paper.

“I’m not smoking it, don’t worry.” She must’ve felt her watching. Sooyoung glanced at her, tracing her tongue along paper like she was sealing a letter, “Unless you want to?”

She ran both scenarios, saying yes and saying no, only one ended up with her not embarrassing herself.

“I’m okay.”

Sooyoung set the finished cigarette aside and started the process all over again.

“You ever smoked before?”

“No.”

“Not your thing?”

“Not really.”

“You don’t really drink either right?” Sooyoung tilted her head, scanned her.

It felt like she was being tested, like an evaluation. She thought she drank enough. At parties she liked approaching the line, feeling light enough that she could have fun and not have to think about what other people thought of her but without losing control completely.

“I drink sometimes… when I feel like it.”

“You ever been so drunk you couldn’t remember anything from the night before?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She laughed, she didn’t know why. Maybe it was because the idea of getting blackout drunk was such a fantasy or maybe it was because of how sincere Sooyoung’s _really_ sounded, like she actually believed Jiwoo could be that person.

“They say you’re more truthful when you’re drunk, and you know the truth’ll set you free.” Sooyoung said it with a straight face, but she'd spent enough time around Hyunjin to know when she was being provoked, challenged, teased.

She narrowed her eyes, “So you’ve never regretted anything you’ve done drunk?”

Sooyoung paused, like she was thinking, recalling every party, every drink, then shook her head, “No.”

“Never?”

Her mouth quirked, a flicker of a smile that she quickly put away, “Never.”

“You must not actually get drunk that much then.”

“No, no I’m drunk all the time… at home… at school…I’m drunk right now.” She had stopped rolling. Her hands were settled on the mat in her lap, steadying everything so it didn’t fall.

"At school?"

“Yeah.”

“How’re your grades?” Sooyoung's eyes sparked when she asked the question, like she’d found a competitor, a playmate, someone on her level.

She smiled and Jiwoo smiled back, waiting for an answer, giving her the floor.

“My grades?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re great, they’re the best. I... I actually have offers from every single Ivy.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, it’s good you know because.. most President’s went to an Ivy.”

She couldn’t help her laughter, “You wanna be President?”

“I will be the President, I just don’t know which Ivy to choose...” Sooyoung looked over, waiting for her to say something, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

She shrugged, “They’re all good.”

“Maybe I’ll just go to whichever one you go to.”

Her words hung in the air, the joke puncturing Jiwoo more than she expected it to. Sooyoung's eyes were still on her, waiting for her to continue playing along and she tried to hide behind a smile as the tide crawled in. There was no way Sooyoung could know, but she must’ve sensed something shifting and she slid the two cigarettes she’d rolled into her tin, began to pack everything else away.

Jiwoo glanced outside to the dwindling light, the sun trapped behind the clouds and the murky grey of the early evening emerging. Everything looked the same, the pavement, the road, the buildings, the sky.

“Do you have a curfew or like need to be home soon?” Sooyoung zipped her backpack up and pushed it into the backseat, the scent still lingered.

She shook her head, “No.”

“Am I okay to drive somewhere? It’s not far but.. it’s a little far.”

Sooyoung tightened her grip on the wheel and looked at her, waiting for a response, really waiting. Her eyes were warm, and she forgot how settled Red Sooyoung made her, how patient she was.

She nodded without thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A selection of songs from the drive: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QYkIJYklqi0  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHKMEHT_Jus  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UTvVRoJ_42w  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1K3uIfxcpVs  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kTCe02uV3TA  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hLQVaKH_miA


	23. WEDNESDAY 16:15

_“falling asleep in the cinema is not about boredom but a feeling of comfort, as when sun is shining on you and you feel warm."_

She remembered Sooyoung turning on to the freeway, reaching out to turn on the heater. She remembered leaning her head against the window and looking at the long stretch of road, thinking about how the cars in front of them were filled with people who had places to be, full lives she would never know anything about. She remembered feeling warm and her eyes feeling heavy.

Her body must’ve known they’d stopped, and she blinked herself back to the real world. It took her a moment to run through the events that brought her where she was: the text in the morning, the waiting in school, outside of school, the parking lot and the freeway and Sooyoung asking if they could make one more stop. She would have thought it was a dream if she wasn’t clearly someplace new. Another parking space, that was really just a road offset from the regular road. It was crowded too. Doors were slamming and groups and couples were passing through a gap in a low wood fence, past wild bushes of yellow flowers up to their waists, toward the ocean. She looked to the driver’s side, to where Sooyoung should’ve been. Maybe that’s what had woken her up, the open door, the cold air, the slam as she closed it.

She thought about whether to stay put or get out, wonder around, try and find her. Maybe she’d followed down the path with everyone else. Her decision was made for her when she spotted Sooyoung walking back toward the car, only stopping to stub a cigarette out on a fence post and flick the rest onto the road.

She caught her reflection in the wing mirror, she looked tired still, always, she couldn’t remember the last time she looked rested, but she also hadn’t fallen asleep that easily in a long time.

Sooyoung sat back in her seat, keeping the door open, the flashes of conversation from passersby mixed with rush of the sea and the cars on the road .

“I fell asleep.” It came out like an apology.

Sooyoung smiled, “Yeah. Wanna get out?”

She looked again at the trail of people heading down to the ocean. Wherever Sooyoung had taken them, the sky was clearer and the setting sun burned clean and bright.

“Sure.”

Sooyoung's smile grew wider, “Okay.”

She reached behind, grabbed her backpack and they walked quietly along the trail, through the flowers to steep steps, dusted with sand. She followed behind Sooyoung as they descended and on the last step Sooyoung paused, slipped off her shoes and socks and settled her bare feet in the sand below. She decided to so the same, stepped out of her sneakers, peeled off her socks and let her feet sink into the soft sand.

She hadn’t been to the beach since the summer. It’d been a crazy heat wave, the sand was searing and everyone had to huddle under umbrellas and lie on towels so they wouldn’t burn instantly. This was different, the sand was cool, and she waded through it like shallow water, carrying her shoes the same way Sooyoung was, hooked on the ends of two fingers.

The shore wasn’t particularly wide, from front to back it would only take ten, fifteen seconds to reach the ocean, it was probably why Sooyoung led them to the very back of the beach, under the crest of a small cove. She sat down, stretching her legs out leaning back on her hands. Jiwoo sat cross legged beside her, careful to keep a little space between them, making sure her knee didn’t knock against Sooyoung's side.

She’d been quiet, they both had, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, or heavy. It didn’t make her feel overly conscious. It was calming. The sea washed slowly onto the shore then faded back out again and the view was like a painting, the sun shining like a torch, cutting a yellow path that rippled and rocked on the ocean.

She heard the click of a lighter and looked over at Sooyoung cupping her hand as she lit a new cigarette. She blew the smoke out of the side of her mouth, tilted away but it caught in the breeze and swirled around them.

“When did you start smoking?”

Sooyoung shook her head and exhaled, long and steady, “I don’t smoke.”

She offered a smile after but there was a hardness in her eyes when she looked away that made Jiwoo think she wasn’t a fan of the question. Maybe it was a little basic.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I think it was like… Freshman year maybe?” She crossed her ankles, turned to Jiwoo, “When did you start not smoking?”

She laughed and Sooyoung smiled proudly, a quirk of the brows to know she’d bested her. It was fair, acknowledging her bad question with an even worse one.

“It’s cool right?” Sooyoung nodded forward, “The view?”

It was. Undeniably. Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same, there were lines of different people, posing alone or together, trying to get the perfect picture.

“Do you come here a lot?”

The question seemed to take Sooyoung by surprise and smoke stuttered out as she laughed.

“ _Do I come here often?_ No. A friend told me about it. I’ve never been here. I thought about a couple of places then just decided on this one. Did you notice that we circled the same block like three times?”

“I-yeah,” She admitted, and Sooyoung laughed again, “I didn’t know what to say so…”

She’d agreed to let Sooyoung make one more stop and assumed she had a place in mind, that she needed to pick something else up or buy herself food. When they passed the same Subway for the third time she thought about asking Sooyoung if she was lost but she seemed completely focused on the road and Jiwoo just assumed she knew what she was doing, the same way she assumed Sooyoung had been to this beach before. She always seemed so assured, it didn’t feel right to know she might not be.

“It’s hard being the driver. You drive right?”

“Yeah,” she trailed a finger mindlessly in the sand, round and round in a figure eight, “I have to share with my Mom though.”

“You want your own?”

“Yeah, be nice to have the freedom.”

“Right. You know I passed first time," Sooyoung quickly shoot her a look, as if to say _impressive right_ , "and my friend told me it’s the only test I’ll ever pass.”

Jiwoo held back a smile and Sooyoung spotted it immediately. “It’s okay you can laugh, it’s pretty funny.”

She breathed deep and set her eyes back on the horizon. “I think I’m good at it though. You know whenever I feel bad or whatever, it’s like... sometimes.. what I tell myself to feel better, to know I can do that one thing…it’s like.. comforting.”

Sooyoung tilted her head and shrugged and Jiwoo realized that she’d been wrong to assume she was with Red Sooyoung when really it might have been Pink Sooyoung the whole time. Or maybe she’d switched at some point and Jiwoo just hadn’t noticed. Sooyoung's hand was pressed flat into the sand between them and it would only take a second for her to reach out, lay her own on top or shift over an inch or two and rest her head on her shoulder.

Sooyoung turned back to her, “Don’t you have something like that?”

“Not driving.”

Sooyoung laughed, “You’re a bad driver?”

“Not bad, just…“

“Not good?”

“Average.”

“Average.” Sooyoung smiled and repeated her like she was trying to keep it remembered.

“Heejin- you know Heejin right?”

“Yeah.”

“She told me I drive like a Grandma- but that’s only because when I started I didn’t know how to… adjust the seat-“

“So you were hunched over?” Sooyoung imitated it, bunching her fists together and lifting her shoulders.

“Yeah. And I drive pretty slow so… maybe it was that too.”

“Cautious driver.” Sooyoung noted.

“Yeah,” she drew another circle in the sand, “cautious driver.”

“I know what you’re good at, just by the way.”

She looked over and met Sooyoung, eyes already on her. She wanted to ask _what,_ but her mind was running to find what she might say, she couldn’t get the words out. Her mouth parted, and she waited.

“You can be really _really_ loud.”

Sooyoung's smile spread slowly. She was an idiot for not reading that the girl was clearly setting up to make fun of her, playing her like she had with the coffee.

“I’m not loud.” She was insistent and only half believed herself, but that wasn’t for Sooyoung to know. For the purposes of this argument, which she was now determined to win, she’d never made a sound in her life.

“Really?”

She went to speak, to tell her _absolutely_ , but quickly retracted and nodded instead. Sooyoung just smiled before resetting, going back to arguing her corner:

“I hear your conversations from my house. It’s like having a radio I can’t turn off.”

She shook her head again, “That must be someone else.”

“It gets to like six-thirty and you’ll be eating with your family and it’s like I’m at the table with you.”

“No, no I hear that too, so it must be the next house over, it has to be them.”

“When I see family, I drive all the way down the coast… and I can still hear you.”

She almost broke, letting a short laugh slip, before straightening out again, “No, it couldn’t be me, I’m quiet, I’m the quietest.”

“The quietest?”

“Yeah, a lot of times people won’t realize I’m in the room until I say something. I’ll be in the back corner, and I’ll finally talk, and they all turn around and they’re…they’re shocked honestly. They gasp, you know. _Jiwoo you’re here?_ ” 

She committed hard to the impression and it worked, Sooyoung laughed, narrowing her eyes as she conceded. “Okay.”

“I mean it.”

“Yeah, sure. So you don’t have one thing then you’re just… good at everything?”

“No, no way, I’m not…”

She didn’t want to tell her the truth, that it was her five-year plan she returned to most when things weren’t right. What she had to remind herself of when she failed to avoid comparing herself to everyone. When someone got a better grade than her – she was going to Brown, someone dressed better than her – she’d find her style at Brown, relationships – she’d meet a girl at Brown.

“Are you a music person? You’re always listening to something.”

“Yeah, I mean, I like music... writing and I make playlists. I’m good at playlists.” Her eyes dropped to the patterns she’d made in the sand. It was strange, to say it out loud. She talked about music, with Heejin mostly, but never in a way that was that serious, playing around, making stuff on her laptop was private, something she did for herself.

“The music you played in the car was good. I liked it.”

“Thanks.” It came out so quiet Sooyoung probably didn’t even hear it.

“Do you wanna know my favorite song?”

She’d got better at the picking up on the signs Sooyoung was joking, or setting up to tell one. The spark in her eyes, the slight quirk of her lips. She played along:

“What?”

“Happy Birthday.” Sooyoung smiled proudly. Exactly what she’d come to expect. It still made her laugh.

The beach had slowly emptied as they talked, the sun hid itself away, taking the opportunity for cool pictures along with it. It was getting darker; the shore was becoming shorter and the ocean was putting a chill in the air. With the heater running, she'd been warm enough to leave her jacket bundled up in the passenger seat. Now she could feel her arms prickling.

“You cold?” She thought she was hiding it, Sooyoung must’ve noticed, or maybe she was just feeling the cold too.

She didn’t give her a chance to answer, unzipped her backpack and pulled out a red sweatshirt.

“Here,” she shook it out, unfurling it and revealing yellow block letters across the front that said _USC_. She was tempted to ask why she had it, whether it belonged to her or someone else.

Sooyoung read her mind, “It’s a friend’s- it’s basically mine, I usually wear it to smoke…it should be fine.”

She let Sooyoung pass it over - why say no? She was only getting colder - and slipped it on. It was surprising how faint the scent of smoke was, how it had mixed with Sooyoung's perfume. Suddenly she couldn’t help picturing Sooyoung wearing it, on top of her roof, a cigarette between her fingers. She was looking in at her own window, into her own bedroom.

She pulled the sleeves over her hands, her fingers were frozen, and she turned to thank Sooyoung but the words never made it out.

She could list the looks she’d received from Sooyoung easily: ice cold, razor sharp glares, steely gazes, empty stares, questioning glances, looks that were bored, looks that were knowing, looks that were confused, looks that said _you’re way too loud,_ but she’d never seen Sooyoung look at her the way she was. Staring, openly and there was a luster in her eyes that would’ve made anyone think they were beneath the stars. She could never last more than a moment looking back at Sooyoung, she always cast her eyes away, but she couldn’t help staring back, it was like she was transfixed, like the whole world had paused except for them.

It played in slow motion, how Sooyoung turned her body toward her, her hand reached out, brushed her cheek and settled at the base of neck. Her body dulled except for that one spot, underneath Sooyoung’s touch it burned. Her fingers slipped lower, and the luster turned daring, teasing, she reached the neck of the sweatshirt and Jiwoo felt her tuck the silk label back inside.

Her hand was gone, had retreated back to its place in the sand, and she couldn’t face her anymore. She fixed her eyes down, her heart ready to break out and make a run for the ocean.

“The label was out.” Sooyoung finally spoke. She could feel her watching.

She forced herself to look back. She wanted to show Sooyoung she could, that she hadn’t got the better of her, that she hadn't left her completely exposed. But she just wasn’t as strong as Sooyoung, she didn't have it in her. Her focus danced around and her words came out quieter than a whisper.

“Thanks.”

She was thrown. So much so she didn’t register Sooyoung leaning forward again.

It didn’t happen in slow motion like before, now it all felt too fast and Sooyoung was right there in front of her and her hand didn’t crawl to her neck, it cupped her cheek and tilted her chin and brought their lips together. Her eyes slipped shut and all she felt was the warmth of Sooyoung's mouth on hers, how soft her lips were.

Then it was over, just like that and when her eyes opened Sooyoung was pushing herself up, brushing the sand off her jeans like nothing had happened. She didn’t know what to do or say, her mouth hadn’t moved since Sooyoung had been there and she’d left a trail of fire where her fingers had touched.

“We should go.”

She nodded. It was all she could do.

Sooyoung reached out an open hand and she took it, let herself be pulled up. She couldn’t do it on her own. Once she was standing, Sooyoung let go, picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure she could walk, she needed the hand, she wanted it back, wanted Sooyoung to guide her through the sand, take her back to the car, back to her room, pull her sheets up over her body and maybe kiss her one more time.


	24. THURSDAY 13:03

At some point during the course of their friendship they all realized they’d rather starve than eat cafeteria food. She once heard a guy call it _the last resort_ when his friend asked him what he was eating that day. He was right.

She accidentally started their tradition when she dropped a couple family packs of chips on the table and nodded when Heejin asked if they were for everyone, too embarrassed to admit she’d been planning on eating them solo. Yerim said she’d bring in something for them all the next day and it went from there.

Today she’d decided on donuts and dropped two packs of six, one plain, one filled with raspberry jelly, on the table. It was just the three of them, Yerim was off school travelling to CSULB for a dance meet, but she decided to splurge anyway, six felt like too little, twelve was probably too much. Heejin handed Hyunjin a plain one and picked out a second for herself. They settled on their phones, it was always a little quieter when Yerim wasn’t with them, she was sort of the center of their universe.

It was strange, the mix of guilt and relief she felt from finding Yerim wasn’t in school. The relief of not having to face her after ditching her and sending her a half-hearted reply when she was finally home, _so sorry just saw this, parents wanted me back._ Yerim still hadn’t responded to it. That’s where the guilt came in, she shouldn’t be relieved to not be seeing someone she loved more than anything in the world, the only upside was that it gave her time to work on an apology and a better excuse.

From her story it looked like she was having a good time, sitting in the bleachers of the college’s indoor arena with Yeojin, catching a basketball match. Although they both seemed more interested in the brass band, she tapped through videos of them improvising dances along with the live music. Jinsol's story updated and she paused before tapping through. It was the usual, a couple of throwbacks, then short bursts of her covertly filming Jungeun, _I think I’m free after seven, seven-thirty maybe_. Jinsol's camera panned to the side as Jungeun talked, and Sooyoung crept into frame for half a second, perched beside them on a window sill somewhere in the school, kicking her legs, occupied by her phone. Jiwoo tapped back, letting the clip play one more time. She recognized the sneakers, she wore them yesterday. She tied them when they made it back to the steps and, standing tall once she'd looped them tight, she looked down at Jiwoo's bare feet, to her sneakers still hanging from her fingers. _D_ _o you need me to tie them for you?_

“Do you need a ride Friday?”

“Huh?” She snapped up and found Heejin waiting on an answer, her eyes shifted to Jiwoo's phone.

"Is that Yerim’s story?”

“Yeah.” She swiped out quickly, protecting the truth from any spying eyes.

“Do you need a ride, on Friday?”

She paused, “Actually… I can’t do Friday, my parents are having this get together thing, they want me to be there.”

“Their holiday party?”

“No it’s just like a gathering, they want me there, I don’t know why.”

“Did you tell them we were hanging out?”

“Yeah, they… wanted me there so…”

“Well-should we reschedule, we could move it?“

“No, we don’t need to all be together, I can be at the next one.”

Hyunjin spoke up, “Next time.”

She looked to Heejin, more like she was assuring her than Jiwoo. It worked and Heejin nodded.

“Okay, next time.”

Hyunjin reached for a second donut, tapped the corner of her lip looking at Heejin. "You have sugar."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

Heejin swiped over the spot with her thumb, "Gone?"

"There's some on the other side too."

She swiped it clean again, checked in again, "Gone?" 

It wasn't until Hyunjin pointed to the bottom of her chin, smirk finally emerging, that Heejin picked up her phone and checked for herself.

She dropped it with a sigh, "Why didn't you tell me she was lying?"

Jiwoo just shrugged. Honestly, she wanted to see how long it would take before Heejin realised what was happening. It was too long. 

Heejin shook her head and sighed again, "You're not funny."

Hyunjin pouted, saying nothing, the quick quirk of her brow speaking for her, _I thought it was funny_.

"Maybe I'll skip tomorrow too. Can I go to your parents' thing?" Heejin asked. It was just a joke, a little sarcasm, but the threat of them actually showing up made her stomach go tight. 

It was easier to lie then tell them the truth. That the night before, after Sooyoung had dropped her home, after her Mom called her into the living room, curled up on the couch watching TV, asking her where she was, who she was with, where she got the sweater she was wearing. After she actually ate something, feeling hungry for the first time in forever. After she lay on her bed, buried her head in her arms, closing her eyes, laughter spilling out, trying to wrap her head around what exactly happened.

After everything, all of it, her phone buzzed with a message from Sooyoung.

_study friday?  
_ _actually study_

She replied _sounds good_ without a second thought.


	25. FRIDAY 21:23

_can’t study today_  
 _something came up  
_ _sorry i didnt message earlier_


	26. SATURDAY 1:11

She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t sleep. And she reminded herself it was what she always did, checked through Instagram, saw everyone’s posts, no matter how little she knew them. It was how she got lost in the feed of a guy who’d followed her after they talked at a party. Well, he talked, she nodded and asked him questions, scanning the room until she saw Yerim and opening her eyes as wide as possible to silently signal for help. Yerim dragged her away with the excuse of needing the bathroom. She remembered him telling her about knowing Jinsol and knowing her friend too and after scrolling back six months she realized the _friend_ was Jungeun, an obvious connection once it became clear he ran track too. She tapped through his stories, he was out with friends, everyone seemed to be, she didn’t recognize any of them. She told herself she wasn’t searching, if she happened to see Sooyoung, it was just a coincidence and definitely not her trying to work out what _something_ _came up_ could mean.

Maybe it was stupid of her to believe Sooyoung would actually sacrifice a Friday night. She must’ve realized what she’d done. Then why message so late? Unless she just forgot about their plans altogether, dropped a text between drinks and carried on with her life while Jiwoo stopped completely to wait for her.

She'd already watched Jinsol's story. Usually it was like a live broadcast, a minute-by-minute account, but tonight it was a couple of pictures of herself from a passenger seat. It should’ve been enough to stop her, but instead she drifted to Snapchat and tapped on Jungeun's update.

Jiwoo was under her covers, lying on her side, just her phone glowing bright in pitch dark room and suddenly there was Sooyoung on a couch, in a tiny living room, staring into her own phone. Jungeun’s voice slurred, telling her she was being boring, and Sooyoung raised her head, stared right into the camera, right at her. Her heart jolted. She thought about locking her phone then and there. She'd looked through stories for hours before without a care, but this felt like an intrusion. She was seconds from double tapping, swiping out for good, when the story rolled on and Jungeun shakily zoomed through a small crowd of dancing bodies to the corner of the room. To Sooyoung pressed against a stranger, her back to the camera, hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her tight. Jungeun’s voice emerged again, laughing, _is this allowed? Is this allowed?_

Her thumb hit the lock button hard and the party disappeared. She should’ve stopped after Instagram. She turned on to her back, let her arms go slack at her sides. In the darkness, her ceiling was an abyss. She should’ve stopped after Instagram.


	27. SATURDAY 14:50

She would’ve stayed in bed all day if she could. She usually had a couple blissful seconds when she woke up, before the reality of her sad life set in, but today the tide had washed over her from the second she opened her eyes. She didn’t have any distractions, she just lay still and gave into her sadness until her Dad knocked on her door, asked her if she wanted breakfast, _or lunch_ , he corrected himself.

She decided she wanted coffee and half an hour after she said she’d be downstairs, once she’d pulled on sweats and a t-shirt and prepared herself with the lie she’d been awake since eight, just been in her room, she made it into the kitchen.

Surprisingly, her parents stood off. Her Mom smiled from the dining table before she went back to the newspaper and her Dad said, _good afternoon,_ while he rinsed his cup out, excited for another coffee. She’d been expecting a joint attack, interrogation part two, but it just felt like a regular Saturday.

“Let me make you a real one.” Her Dad picked up the pot from the stove top, shifting it to the counter and opening the lid.

“I’m okay,” She unscrewed the instant coffee instead, tipping too many teaspoons into her cup, “are you not in work today?”

He took his phone out of his back pocket and waved it, “I have meetings all day.”

She looked over to her Mom, head still in the newspaper, “Is he being annoying?”

“He’s on his third cup of coffee.” That meant _yes,_ _extremely_. Jiwoo smiled.

“Could make it to four, depending how this goes…”

His phone buzzed and he answered a loud _hello_ before he moved into his study.

The kettle rumbled, clicked and she poured the boiling water into her cup, watching it go ink black. She definitely put too much coffee in.

“Have any plans today?”

It couldn’t just be an innocent question, her Mom didn’t do innocent questions. It was her way of saying she was taking note, saying she was aware Jiwoo had been sleeping in, not eating with her, not talking to her, not really doing anything, just shutting herself in her room.

“Maybe.” She refused to turn around and kept stirring her coffee, the spoon clinking lightly in the silence.

“Weren’t you were supposed to be with your friends yesterday? Hyunjin and-”

“-No, yeah, but we were busy so...” she braced herself, picked up her cup and turned round, her practiced smile meeting her Mom’s prying eyes, “You reading about your show? Are they saying nice things?”

Her Mom took the bait, casting her eyes on the newspaper, “They’re saying what I’ve said, that it’s good, some of the things that happen though, they’re just not believable.”

She nodded along, her coffee was bitter but she didn’t want to tip out. It would mean staying longer, having to make herself another cup. It would give her Mom space to ask more questions. She pushed toward the door.

“Jiwoo?” Her Mom called out, catching her in the threshold. The tide rolled in and so did the panic, her stomach tightened, expecting the worst. She retreated, two steps, back into the doorway.

“If you have any laundry, could you bring it down?”

The relief washed over her, “Yeah, sure.”


	28. SATURDAY 16:10

She finally checked her phone when it buzzed too many of times.

She’d resorted to studying. Everything else felt dangerous, her phone, her laptop, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, her email, they were all set up to make her feel awful. She spun around in her chair and her eyes landed on her assigned reading, peeking out beneath her bed. She decided she may as well make a start on it. She was halfway through the introduction when her phone vibrated, her nightstand shook and the screen lit up. One disruption wasn’t enough to get to her, but when it buzzed for maybe the thirtieth time, she gave in.

It lit up instantly from her contact and she couldn’t help her smile, the same message from Hyunjin coming in:

_PRIMOS?_

_PRIMOS?_

_PRIMOS?_

_PRIMOS?_

_PRIMOS?_

_PRIMOS?_

_PRIMOS?_

_PRIMOS?_

_PRIMOS?_

_PRIMOS?_

_PRIMOS?_

_PRIMOS?_

_PRIMOS?_

She knew Hyunjin wouldn’t stop until she replied.

As her thumbs hovered over the keyboard, she pictured herself there with all four of them, Hyunjin to her right, Yerim across from her.

Yerim.

She still hadn’t messaged back, she hadn’t seen her in what felt like forever. It wasn’t right and forcing herself to go, maybe that would make everything feel a little more normal. That’s all she wanted, for everything to go back to the way it was, to be able to talk to her parents, look at her phone, hang out with her friends. For her world not to be ending.

She changed her clothes, threw on jeans and an over-sized cardigan. She grabbed keys from the bowl, pausing when her Mom asked her where she was going, catching her again before she could slip away, just her voice calling out from the kitchen. She yelled back that she was seeing friends, and her Mom asked too many follow ups, _who?, where?, what time will you be back?_ She climbed into the car extra grateful that Hyunjin had reached out, she needed a break from home.

She parked up a block away and rushed along the sidewalk, catching her friends in the front window when she passed by, deep in conversation. If they noticed her they didn’t make it obvious. Seeing them, seeing her empty chair, it made her stomach sink and she couldn’t tell if it was nerves or guilt or excitement. Maybe it was all of them.

“I’m serious, I think it’s a good idea and we _have_ to now, it’s not too early to start planning.”

“It’s a little early.”

It really was like nothing had changed. Yerim looked stressed, trying to plan something with Heejin as her advisor. Hyunjin was on her phone, nodding along, probably still messaging her, she wouldn’t stop until she was sat beside her with a coffee, even then she might send a couple more, for emphasis.

“Hey.”

All three of them turned at once, it was almost intimidating. Hyunjin smiled as Heejin and Yerim's faces blossomed with surprise. It clicked. Hyunjin hadn’t told them she was coming. She found herself waving, instinctually, awkwardly as they watched her, trying to adjust to her presence.

“I was gonna order, if anyone wants anything.” 

Yerim's eyes were still on her. There was no animosity, it felt more like evaluation, like seeing someone from elementary school years later, the moments before you realize how you might know them.

She shook her head. “We’re good.”

Hyunjin pushed out of her chair. “I can get it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know, I want to.” She took Heejin’s cup along with her own and paused to check Jiwoo's order, “Vanilla?”

She nodded and shuffled past Hyunjin’s empty chair to her regular seat, releasing a sigh into the quiet. The music was low barely audible over the clank and the whir of the machines. She’d never seen Yerim so muted, more interested in the swirl of cream on top of her drink than anything else.

“How was your party?” Heejin finally spoke, probably hating how thick the air had become.

“It wasn’t really a party, just a get together.”

“Right.”

“Nothing happened- what were you talking about earlier… when I interrupted?”

Heejin looked over to Yerim, still keeping to herself and her drink, and took the initiative:

“Just planning something for graduation.” Heejin kept it brief, and shrugged.

Her lack of commitment seemed to light the spark in Yerim that was fading. She still made sure to cast her focus entirely on Heejin, planting her straw into her drink, practically scorning her.

“A blowout. It’s gonna be a blowout. It has to be a blowout now.”

“Why?” 

They both paused, turning to her and she felt like she’d interrupted a private conversation, like she’d been caught eavesdropping. She watched the silent conversation play out between them, both hesitant to say anything, urging the other forward. Yerim eventually broke.

“Hyunjin’s going to _Michigan_.” She announced it, eyes wide and smiling, her disbelief mixing with her pride.

It was literally the last thing she expected Yerim to say, “Michigan?”

“Yeah, she’s pretty sure.” Heejin added, she cast a glance over her shoulder.

Hyunjin was idly scrolling through her phone, two orders on the counter, waiting on the third.

“When?” She laughed, it just spilled out of her. Hyunjin hadn’t a said a thing.

“Her Mom mentioned it this morning, she just said it.”

She looked to Heejin, her hands tapping restlessly on the table with no coffee to hold, “So, no- no Long Beach?”

“It wasn’t ever an official plan.” Heejin offered a non-committal shrug, like it was nothing.

But, it was news to Jiwoo. It was sort of a given that they were both going to college together, she couldn’t remember when they told her, or which one of them told her. It was just a certain thing, that come the fall they'd both be going to Long Beach and now they weren’t. Now Hyunjin was moving thousands of miles away.

“So we’re split,” Yerim drew her finger across the table, a dividing line between Jiwoo and Hyunjin and herself and Heejin, “East coast, West coast. That’s why we’re having a _blowout_ blowout after graduation... Thanks for messing up our plans.”

“You’re welcome.” Hyunjin arrived back, carrying all the three drinks at once and setting them down neatly.

Heejin took hers first, peeled off the lid then paused. Before she could say anything, Hyunjin pulled a pack of brown sugar from the pocket of her hoodie and tossed it to her, following it up with a single stirrer. Symbiosis. For a closed-book biology test that was how she remembered the word, picturing Heejin and Hyunjin together. If Heejin forgot something - Hyunjin had it, if Hyunjin couldn’t remember something - Heejin could recall it. It was how it’d been since forever. 

“So what’d you think?” Yerim asked.

She shook herself out of her daydream. “About what?”

“Having the party. Renting somewhere. Were you not listening?” The air went heavy again, the question felt pointed and she scrambled for an answer.

“No- I think it’s good… Just do you think people would come to our party? Won't everyone be throwing one…” She trailed off as Yerim's face started to tighten, her mouth set.

Her words were cold as ice. “We could ask your parents, they know how.”

Jiwoo faltered. It was gut punch. A hammer blow.

“We should drive around, look at the beach houses, a lot of them you can rent.” Heejin suggested.

Hyunjin followed up, “And we could look online.”

"Right, yeah, like a Airbnb maybe?"

They were both trying their best to lift the mood but it was tense and awkward and Jiwoo had made it that way.

She glanced up from her coffee. Yerim was back to quietly toying with her own. The tide began to wash in and she realized it was guilt she’d felt before, more than anything else and guilt that she was feeling at that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgot to post this - my b. enjoy!


	29. MONDAY 10:55

Music wasn’t working anymore. She’d been playing it so loudly the past week her phone had begun to manage the volume on its own, fighting with her, notching the slider down every time she turned it up. Her thoughts were always were louder anyway and she was pretty sure they’d reached their peak. No one had messaged the group since Friday night. She hadn’t heard anything from any of her friends since Saturday afternoon. She woke up to pouring rain and usually when the weather was beyond bad Heejin would offer her a ride, but her phone lay dormant beside her all morning. Yerim had posted some dance videos on Instagram and she couldn’t help but think the caption, _favorite people_ with a line of hearts, was aimed at her, a reminder of how much she’d let her down, how much she’d let them all down.

She pulled her backpack tight as she weaved through the hallway, her rain-soaked shoes still trudging on the shiny floor. She’d never ditched school before but she was considering it, only because she would contribute more by not being there. She started toward the stairwell, the one that would take her to emptiest bathroom. She needed a break, somewhere to rest, somewhere to catch her breath.

Before she could make it, there was Yerim, at her locker, trading out a book. She could’ve turned around or tried to walk past her, but Jiwoo found her feet carrying her right up to Yerim, like her instincts had kicked in.

“I’m sorry.”

Yerim closed her locker, more surprised to see her than anything else. “Huh?”

“I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” she levelled, “should I be?”

She wanted to say yes, to tell her everything, to tell her she was sorry again, and repeat it a thousand times. The confession stirred in her, desperate to get out.

“No, I just-“

“We’ve all been busy. Stressed.” She smiled, the tight lipped barely there smile she had seen Yerim give so many people.

It was the one she’d offer to guys at parties when they interrupted conversations to try and flirt. The one that meant they were taking up her time, that she didn’t want them around, that they were making things uncomfortable.

The bell rang. Yerim’s saving grace.

“I gotta get to class.” She hooked her bag over her shoulder, forcing out one more smile before she left.

Jiwoo tried to blink away her tears. She wouldn’t be able to make it through her next class and she carried on toward the bathroom, hoping more than anything that it would be empty, that no would be able to see or hear how miserable she was.


	30. TUESDAY 1:07

She had just been looking for a jacket.

Her parents assumed she was a good student, that in the middle of the night, a school night, she’d be tucked up in bed, fast asleep and not at her desk, watching another artist break down their albums or explain how they create an _emotional vocal performance_. The heating switched off, her bare feet froze and her arms prickled, so she treaded lightly to the closet and there it was.

Hanging between two hoodies, still red, letters still gold. Sooyoung’s sweatshirt. Her mind went back to the first time she wore it, how Sooyoung had looked at her once she'd put it on, and she found herself reaching out, tugging it off the hanger and slipping it over her again.

Back at her desk, she clicked another video, trying to focus on her screen and not what she was wearing. It was a losing battle.

She pulled the sleeves over her hands, and trailed the fabric slowly along her arm, all the way up to her shoulder and back down again. She’d kissed three people in her lifetime. On the playground, when she was maybe six or seven, there was a game where the boys would chase the girls and when they caught them it meant they got to kiss them. She got caught and she got kissed. All she remembered was his nose was running and, like Indiana Jones saving his hat, pulling away before it could trickle on to her upper lip. There was Junior Year, a classmate’s birthday party, a boy she didn’t recognize from school. He flirted with her all night. She couldn’t find it in herself to tell him she wasn’t interested and when the candles were blown out, amongst the smoke and the cheering, he leaned down and kissed her. It was rough and a little forceful and when their teeth bumped together she pulled away and told him she had to use the bathroom. Maybe he got the message or maybe she was a bad kisser, either way she never saw him again.

And then there was Sooyoung. The only kiss she hadn’t wanted to end. The only kiss she wished had gone further. She folded her arms on her desk and buried herself in the crook of her elbow, losing herself to the softness, the smoke, the perfume. Her mouth parted and she kissed the cotton. It was rough and dry between her lips, not like Sooyoung had been. She wondered whether that was how she was with everyone, forward but slow and gentle or was it just for her, if she was thinking about her at all in that moment.

Sooyoung did what she wanted. Sooyoung did whatever made her happy, Sooyoung didn’t care what people thought of her. She wondered whether putting the sweatshirt on was about being closer to Sooyoung or becoming Sooyoung. Did she want her, or did she just wish she could be her? Be more like her.

She imagined them back on the beach, just them, the fading sun and the empty shore. She hugged her knees, Sooyoung stretched her legs out beside her, and she finally said it:

_“I got rejected by Brown.”  
_

_“That sucks. You have other options?”  
_

_“No.”  
_

_“That’s kinda stupid. What was your major gonna be?”  
_

_“Theatre.”  
_

_“You act?”  
_

_“No.”  
_

_“That’s pretty stupid too. Why theatre?”  
_

_"_ _I don’t know.”  
_

_“So why’d you do any of it?”  
_

_“I don’t know.”_

In the silence of the night, it was easy to hear the smallest sound and she sat up, alert to the hiss, the thud of a window sliding open. She peaked through her curtains and watched as Sooyoung walked carefully along the roof, crouched at the edge and slowly scaled the trellis down to the yard. She pushed through the loose fence panels into Jiwoo’s yard and out onto the road through Jiwoo's gate. She’d seen this play out a hundred times before. Sooyoung waited, her phone glowing like the streetlight above her. Eventually a car pulled up and she climbed in.

Nothing had changed for her and there was Jiwoo sitting alone, wearing her sweatshirt. She peeled it off and threw it toward the corner of the room, into the darkness.

She was already aware, but sitting there, emptier than ever, with the tide consuming her, it had never been clearer. That missing something was worse than never knowing it existed. A part of her wished on that one day her partner had been in class. They’d never have been paired together, they wouldn’t need to speak, she wouldn’t have offered her a ride, she wouldn’t have made her laugh, she wouldn’t have smiled at her, she wouldn’t have given her a sweatshirt, she wouldn’t have kissed her. She would’ve continued to find her on occasion, still and steely and wonder for a moment if there was anything beyond the empty looks, then she’d go on with her day.

Everything would’ve been so much simpler.


	31. THURSDAY 15:22

_You’re not yourself._ She’d heard it from her Mom before, usually when she was sick. She’d look pale and go quiet and she understood what she meant, that she wasn’t behaving how everyone expected her to and it was fine, it was understandable, because she wasn’t well. That morning, she walked into the kitchen and asked for another day off school. Her Mom stopped stirring her coffee, turned around and firmly told her she wasn’t having any more time off. Then she said it, for the first time since Jiwoo was young.

_You’re not yourself._

It felt like an accusation, she didn’t respond just loudly brought herself to her room, planting her foot down hard on each stair.

Her Mom was right. But she wanted to tell her nothing felt like itself, that for a few weeks now, maybe longer, maybe forever, she felt like she was living in some alternate dimension, like the world had come off its axis. Instead, she walked to school, she listened to the wind and traffic and snippets of conversations between frustrated parents and whiny kids. The unreality continued, she let school happen. Yerim was at another dance meet and Hyunjin was sick and so she sat quietly with Heejin. The only thing she remembered from their conversation was accepting her offer of a ride home.

She’d parked in the overflow, Heejin told her when they met out front and as they walked toward the park, she could feel Heejin wanting to say something, could see Heejin’s mouth stammer silently out of the corner of her eye. Finally, she spoke:

“What do you think of the pier tomorrow? All four of us. I think Yerim would like it.”

She knew exactly what Heejin was doing, still trying her best to fix any rifts, keep them all afloat. It was admirable.

Heejin shrugged and continued: “She’s been stressed lately, it’ll be nice to have some fun.”

They hadn’t been to the pier since the summer, when it was packed every day, mixes of tourists and locals, couples and families, students from middle school all the way through to college. With the benefit of a car and living just round the corner, on those clear summer nights they could stay all the way to closing. Yerim always encouraged her to be daring, try food she didn’t think she liked, gamble her money away on the claw machine, ride the rollercoaster. The last one took the most convincing, eventually she gave in, sat next to Yerim and held her hand tight the entire time, both of them screaming into the wind.

That was freedom. How could she say no to the possibility of having that again?

“Sounds good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Heejin paused, probably surprised, it’d been a while since she’d agreed to plans so quickly. “Okay, cool, I’ll message about it later.”

The turn for the park sprung up, a sharp right through a dense bush that in the winter became a tangle of sharp branches. It hit her as soon as Heejin told her where she was parked, where they’d have to walk, who they might have to walk past, she decided to keep her head down. Better to have no memory than a bad one.

“Oh-I gotta ask Jinsol something, is that okay?”

She couldn’t measure how much she’d wanted to say no. Tell Heejin she could do anything but bring her over there. Tell her she was struggling to just walk past the table never mind having to stand there under the heavy weight of their gazes.

“Sure.”

They cut across the grass and the temptation to look over came her. They were posed exactly how she thought they would. Jinsol hunched over her phone on one side of the table, Jungeun lower, sitting on the bench, distracted, rotating her water bottle in her hands and Sooyoung, perched the other side of Jungeun, a mirror of Jinsol, with a cigarette in her hand.

Jinsol spotted them and immediately reached behind her for her backpack, opening it and taking out a notepad. She flicked through and when they arrived beside her, handed Heejin a thin stack of papers with a smile.

She quickly checked them, “This everything?”

“Yeah should be. How’s Hyunjin?”

“She’s fine, just a little sick. Cold season.”

“Are you seeing her?” Jungeun spoke up.

“Yeah, taking these to her now.”

“Could you tell her we’re almost done filming… and that I’m bringing everything back soon-before winter break.”

“Sure.”

She couldn’t stop her focus drifting away, over Jungeun’s shoulder. Sooyoung hadn’t bothered to look up from her phone. She’d angled herself away from them, just a sharp jaw and pouted lips. The same lips that had pressed gently on hers and countless other girls. She was the only one naïve enough to think it meant something.

“Thanks,” Heejin held up the papers, mission complete, and they retreated back toward the path.

Once they reached her car, she unzipped her backpack and slotted the papers away, taking time to make sure they didn’t crease or fold. It was the most careful she’d seen her. Heejin wasn’t the neatest person, her backseat was covered in a blanket of jackets, coats, books, a couple of empty water bottles and a guitar case.

“Is Hyunjin gonna care, if they’re not neat?”

“No, but she’ll pretend to, if they’re folded or something she’ll pretend like she’s mad about it. I’m trying to be one step ahead of her.”

“She’ll be grateful. I would be, if you did it for me.”

Heejin shrugged, “She hates falling behind so…Do you still have your project with Sooyoung?”

She tried to keep herself as neutral as possible, not give away how just hearing her name made her stomach drop.

“Yeah.”

“How’s it going?”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not stressing you out or anything?”

“It’s just a project.”

“Right.” Heejin nodded and held on her for a moment.

She could see it, something more Heejin wanted to say as she scanned her face. But she conceded and Jiwoo was grateful when the car started, the radio came to life and she could turn away, hiding her relief.

It didn’t last, throughout the drive, Heejin had glanced her way, even lowered the volume at one point, only to give in and turn it back up moments later. When they pulled up outside her house, before she could push out the door and rush home like she wanted to, Heejin clutched the steering wheel tight and turned to her.

“Tomorrow right? The pier?”

“Yeah, of course.” She reached for the handle.

“And Friday too?”

“Yeah.”

Heejin sighed deep and wet her lips, “Jiwoo…”

She was struggling to say something, and Jiwoo’s stomach was concrete, she could hear her heart beating double time.

“You’re okay, right?”

It was her chance, in the quiet of the car, to say the words out loud. Not think them on a loop, still awake in middle of the night or imagine saying them to someone who didn’t care about her. It was just her and Heejin, looking at her open and sincere.

“I’m okay.”

She couldn’t do it.

She forced out a smile and Heejin’s head dropped, staring into her lap. Neither of them were convinced by the performance.

“Thanks for the ride.”

Heejin didn’t say a thing, just gestured weakly as she climbed out and drove away before Jiwoo even reached the front gate.

She was alone.

She wanted her room, she wanted her bed, she wanted to pull her covers over her and block out the world. She wouldn’t sleep but she might rest a little and she needed it. It just didn’t feel like she had the energy to keep going anymore.

“Jiwoo?” Her Mom’s voice rang out from the kitchen the moment she came through the door. It was loud, stern and serious. Her heart picked up again as she made her way toward it.

She’d played through this nightmare more times than she could count. It made her body ring with anxiety, pushed her to point of nausea. It happened in almost exactly the same way. Her Mom’s voice, a slow walk, opening the door, the kitchen clean and quiet, her Mom standing there, arms folded, her face tight with anger and concern, and the letter, lying open on the kitchen table.

There was no more hiding.

“How long have you had this? I knew something wasn't right.” She shook her head, almost admonishing herself.

She didn’t answer, she couldn’t. Instead, she felt angry, she was angry. Angry that her Mom had gone into her room, routed through her desk, invaded her privacy. Angry because being angry meant she wasn’t despairing. She turned around, heading for the stairs and her Mom immediately called her again.

“Jiwoo.”

“Can I just…get changed first?” Her voice wavered, she could hear her own desperation, “Please.”

It felt like an eternity before her Mom nodded. She made it to her room and it was like something burst inside her. She wasn't sure the tears would ever stop.


	32. THURSDAY 20:55

_“should we knock?”  
_ _“just leave her.”  
_ _“we should knock.”  
_ _“… I wanna go home.”_  
 _“I’ll gently knock.”  
_ _“it doesn’t matter how you knock, she’s asleep.”_

There was a dull pain blossoming at the back of her neck. She felt that before anything else. Then she heard the bickering voices. She thought maybe she’d lost herself so much she’d descended into full insanity but when she looked to her side, out of the window, she found who they belonged to. They stopped as soon as they saw her, awake and staring.

She knew them, barely, it was more that she recognized them. They were the only two employees that ever seemed to be on shift when her and her friends showed up at Primo’s. There was the girl that worked the counter, who took their orders, short brown hair and a smile so wide it made her eyes crinkle. Then there was girl that made their orders, who hid behind the machines most of the time. Whenever she did manage to see her, the girl’s face seemed permanently set downward, her eyes blank. She knew the expression well, it was the one she saw in the reflection of her laptop hours into a thankless task, the one that said _I’d rather be anywhere else._ She’d never really spoken to them, but now they were staring in at her, on either side of a tall metal cage filled with flattened cardboard. The counter girl approached the window.

“Are you okay?” Her voice was muffled like it was coming from a locked box.

It was the question of the day, of the past week and the week before that. Maybe longer. Was she okay?

She caught her reflection in the rearview mirror, the answer was written all over her face, in her eyes, tired and swollen. She realized the question the girl wanted to ask probably wasn’t _are you okay?_ but really, _do you need help?,_ and it set in that someone camped out in a staff car park just before closing, looking downright depressed was probably going to make people think something serious was happening. Something actually serious.

“I’m fine.” Her voice was weak, it wasn’t convincing and the girl stayed put. 

She motioned for her to roll the window down and Jiwoo followed, pressing on the button and letting the cold air flood in.

“Do you wanna come in? We’re open a little longer.”

“I’m fine, honestly.” Her voice was flat, dead. She couldn’t pretend anymore.

“It’s empty inside, you can come round back, we can get you a drink or you can just sit for a little while.”

She didn’t have a plan. At home she cried and cried, the thought of having to face her Mom was too much and before she knew it, she was grabbing car keys from the bowl, rushing out the door and driving with no destination in mind. She thought about the freeway, just getting on and leaving, going anywhere, north or south, whichever direction found her first.

Then she’d passed the empty spot just visible behind Primo’s and pulled up beside the two other cars. She wasn’t sure why she stopped there, maybe a part of her hoped she’d see Heejin’s car or they’d be inside, find her, tell her everything was okay. Instead, she was on her own, just her shaky breaths and sniffles filling the silence. She fell asleep because it was the only thing she could do.

Here was a kind stranger offering her some semblance of a plan, something to do for at least the next ten minutes.

“You’re sure it’s okay?”

“Absolutely.”

She followed the girl, through the back into a small staff room, a table riddled with graffiti, a couple sheets of paper on it. The wall was lined with lockers that looked exactly like the ones from school. It was painted white like the rest of the store but had faded to a dull grey. It was a little sad, the way all staff rooms seem to be.

“Sit anywhere.” The girl gestured to four mismatched chairs and Jiwoo lowered herself on the one closest to her while the girl leaned against the doorframe. It was warmer in there and the music from out the front quietly drifted inside.

She liked the music they played, it always seemed curated, not just a list of recent hits handed down to them. The first time they found Primo’s, she noticed they played a full album through, one of her favorites, another reason why it was destined to be their place.

There was a slam and loud rattling, and the other girl pushed the now empty cage back inside.

“Could you get her a drink?”

She stopped in the doorway, her eyes were fierce, they pierced and burned when she looked at her. She didn’t seem as welcoming as her friend.

“Everything’s off.”

“Make her a tea. Are you okay with tea?”

Jiwoo nodded. She was definitely intruding, she’d take the tea and leave as soon as she could. The gesture was kind, too kind and she’d return it by letting these people finish their shift and go home.

“Just a tea.”

“Fine.” She continued on, metal rattling down the hallway.

“I’m Haseul by the way.”

“Jiwoo.”

“Jiwoo.” She settled her hands behind her back, “Bad day?”

She considered telling her everything. First she’d walk her through the fact she done almost nothing her entire life but study, then she’d tell her about Brown, then she’d tell her about Sooyoung and then she’d finish by telling her she’d lost all her friends because of it. Maybe it was too much to unload on someone who was little more than a stranger.

"Kind of.”

The other girl came back, quickly passing Haseul the drink. She stopped herself before she could disappear again, planting a hand round the door frame, peaking back round.

“Am I closing on my own?”

“Everything’s basically done.”

Her eyes found Jiwoo again and she held on her for a moment. It was intimidating and she found her own gaze sinking to her lap.

“Do you want me to wait five minutes before it’s checked?”

“Is that okay?”

The girl nodded, reluctantly, “It’s fine.”

She strode off again and Haseul passed her the drink as she sat down. Jiwoo reminded herself of the promise she’d made, they had lives too, it wasn’t fair to have them stay because of her.

“I should go.”

Haseul waved her down before she even had the chance to try and leave. “You’re fine-it’s fine if you stay, honestly.”

“You don’t have to-“

“It’s okay… And we close soon anyway so we’ll kick you out then.” She smiled.

“Okay.”

Just a couple more minutes, she decided. Then she’d leave. Find somewhere else to park up. Maybe she’d try and find the spot Sooyoung drove them to. It was far away and secluded enough. 

“You know the other day a friend of Hyejoo,” - Haseul pointed to the door - “she made the drink and now she’s closing up. On her own. She’s probably a little mad at me.” She tilted her head, as if to say _my bad._ “Yeah, anyway the other day her friend got hurt really bad, they were at the pier and she cut her arm, blood everywhere, and Hyejoo brought her here, I have no idea why. But we sneaked her in the back just like you. It’s a full system now so… it’s fine, you’re good to be here.”

She smiled again and Jiwoo finally felt herself settling, the tension slowly melting away. She cradled her tea tighter.

“Is she okay?”

“Hyejoo's friend? Yeah, it wasn’t serious. They were back in the arcade the next day… Is that helping?”

Haseul asked the question as she took a sip.

“Yeah… thank you.”

It was peppermint, she could’ve guessed, it was fragrant, filling the room as soon Hyejoo brought it in.

Peppermint was one of her favorites. Her Mom used to make her drink it as a kid to calm down. When she was all energy, volume spiking, bouncing off the walls, she’d set her at the table and put the cup down in front of her. It would always be too hot to drink right away, so she’d sit patiently until the steam dwindled and she could wrap her hands around the cup, no sharp sting from the heat. It centered her, stilled her, prepared her for a long night’s sleep.

Maybe it was a coincidence, Hyejoo throwing the first thing she saw into the first cup she could find. Maybe it was fate.

She set her cup down beside the paper spread out on the table, color coded with dates and times.

“That’s our rota for the next couple weeks.” Haseul explained, “You know they gave me this close, then an open tomorrow. So I’ll go home in like half an hour then I’m back for five in the morning _and_ I have classes too. Then I’m up again the next day for another open.”

“That’s a lot.”

Haseul shrugged, “Sometimes you don’t wanna do things, but you have to. I just take a breath and get through it, it’s kinda stressful but that’s where the free coffee comes in… I mean you probably get it, you're a senior right?”

“Yeah.” Her answer came out shaky, she was a little surprised. It was the first time anyone had guessed her age right. Everyone always thought she was younger.

“You look like you could be one of Hyejoo's friends, she’s a senior too.” Haseul ducked her head, leaning in and lowering her voice, “She’s been _terse_ today cause she’s nervous about college,” she pulled back with a smile, “she won’t say it, but she totally is. I keep telling her it’s not that big a deal.”

“You don’t think so?”

Haseul paused on her, thought for a moment and shook her head.

“I mean it is, but it’s also not. It just sort of happens. Hyejoo said it’s different if you’re moving away which I guess it kinda is but it’s not like you’re gonna become a totally new person just because you’re in a different state or like going to a new school... I’ve kind of changed, not much- I mean everybody does, that’s down to the person not the place and Hyejoo’s like wise and terrifying and that’s not gonna... go away on the flight. I’m sorry I’m like… ranting at you, I’ve had too much coffee.”

She smiled and Jiwoo was smiling too, “You’re not ranting.”

They both heard the footsteps and turned at the same time to watch Hyejoo walk straight through to her locker. She pulled everything out at once, just a bundle in her arms, and finally spoke when she saw both of them waiting expectantly:

“Manager said we can go.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice.” Haseul pushed out of her chair and Jiwoo followed, she didn’t want to be the only one sitting. Hyejoo was already out the door, a single nod to say goodbye, her hands were still full.

Haseul pulled a sweatshirt and car keys out of her locker, quickly turning over her shoulder, “I’ll walk you out.”

She slipped her sweatshirt on, it was red, a familiar red and Jiwoo almost laughed when she turned around. The gold letters shone. USC. She thought about telling her she had the same one at home.

“Lets get outta here.”

They stopped beside their cars, parked next to each, spotlighted by the streetlight towering over them. Haseul clutched her sleeves and bunched up her shoulders.

“You’re okay to get home?”

“Yeah… Thank you.” She wanted to say so much more but it was all she could manage. At that moment the kindest thing she could do was let Haseul finally leave, get some rest, warm up.

“Feel better okay? And come get a coffee sometime soon, on the house if my managers not around.”

“Definitely.”

“Get home safe.” She climbed into her car and waited until Jiwoo was safely in hers to pull away, offering her one last wave.

Then it was just her again. Alone. Just Jiwoo. She set her hands on the wheel and looked at herself in the rearview.

_It’s down to the person_.

The last time she sat there, she was hopeless. She was terrified of her reality and she’d resorted to sleep to get away from it. But she couldn’t get away from it anymore and she didn’t want to.

_Take a breath and get through it._

She hadn’t got through anything. From the second she hid that letter away, she was denying herself. All the fake reassurances, every _soon,_ every _not yet_ it wasn’t about her parents, or about her friends it was because she couldn’t face it, because she couldn’t admit it. And all the distractions, all the avoidance, it was because she couldn’t face herself. But now she was.

She levelled with herself.

She took a breath in, strong, filled her lungs.

She exhaled, loud.

_It’s down to the person_.

She didn’t need to wait for anyone or anything, she could make changes now, she could right wrongs now, she could actually start living.

She said it. Out loud. Not a whisper, in full voice.

“I got rejected. I was rejected. I didn’t get into Brown.”

She was shaky by the end, her tears were welling, but she could finally breath again.

She was ready to go home.


	33. THURSDAY 22:08

When she finally pulled up, she decided she’d tell her parents everything, what happened and why she acted the way she did. She would be clinical, explaining her behavior like it was presentation. Point, evidence and explain.

If only it was that simple.

Her Mom and Dad were waiting the moment she was through the door, she couldn’t get any words out. Her Mom held her tight and she let her tears stain her shoulder. Apologies poured out of her, over and over as much as she could, her breath catching in her throat. Her Dad wasn’t a crier, but Her Mom was, and she told her everything would be okay through her own tears, while he stood to the side, quiet and reassuring. He was one that nodded first when she asked if they could talk tomorrow. She knew she’d be better if she gave herself the evening to think.

Back in her room, she found her phone where she’d tossed it earlier in the evening. She couldn’t be afraid of it anymore, she took another breath and confronted her lock screen.

There were missed calls, not just from her parents, from her friends too and each of them had messaged.

_worried about you.  
_ _call me if you want to talk._ From Heejin.

_reply  
_ _just so we know youre okay._ From Yerim.

_here for you._ From Hyunjin.

It was a mess. A whole mess. Her breaths were still uneven, and she thought she was all out of tears, but they started up all over again.

She sent the message to all of them.

_i’m home and im safe  
_ _and im okay  
_ _im sorry_  
_about everything  
_ _love you all_


	34. FRIDAY 8:25

She didn’t see the time until she made it into the kitchen. Still sleepy, bleary eyed, it had taken a moment for her to get her head around everything. It was a school day, she’d slept in but her parents hadn’t woken her up and both her parents were there, sitting with their coffees at the dining table, her Dad wasn’t at work.

He smiled softly when she came in, “Coffee?”

She nodded and took a seat across from them as he got up to make it. She put the pieces together and turned to meet her Mom, watching her carefully, it was like she was five years old again.

“You let me have today off?”

“Your father’s idea.”

“To talk?”

“To talk.” There was still concern in her eyes, from both of them. Nothing had resolved overnight. 

Her Dad returned, set the coffee down next to her and took his own seat. It was two against one again, but she wouldn’t run away this time and when they started asking questions, asking if something had happened with her friends – no, if something had happened with a teacher – no, asking if she was being bullied – no, she realized they weren’t suspicious, they weren’t conspiring, they were _worried_ about her, they wanted her to be okay, just like she did.

Her Mom slid a hand toward her, “So it was just about your college, it was just about Brown.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, it was nice, how easy it was to look at her Mom when she wasn’t lying anymore. She felt the tide drift out and the weight lift the more she told the truth.

“Really, it was.”

Her Dad leaned forward too, “We know you had your heart set on it- “

“-I didn’t.” She couldn’t help interrupting, it just came out. She’d freed herself and now she couldn’t stop. “I think I just thought I did.”

Her Dad shifted in his chair, trying to work out how to take the news. It was like he was rewiring, mouth shifting around and eventually landing on a stuttered, “Okay.”

They were interrupted when the doorbell rang and her Mom volunteered, getting up quickly.

“We know a lot of great people in admissions…” Her Dad offered, a little lost.

She nodded but she couldn’t think about what came next just yet. She wanted to keep talking to them, she wanted to see her friends.

Her Mom stopped in the door frame, her voice soft and calm. “Heejin’s outside.”

It wasn’t a question but if felt like she was posing it as one. Heejin’s outside, really meant _Do you want me to tell her to leave? Do you want to see her?_

She was still in her pajamas, she still had a coffee to drink and the voice in her head that prioritized comfort and denial told her not go, _don’t do it, you can talk to your friends later._ She ignored it.

“Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

Heejin saw her pajamas first and laughed through a long judgmental _wow,_ from the doorstep. She usually brought better pajamas to their Friday get togethers.

“I was gonna see if you needed a ride to school but your Mom said you were skipping.”

“Yeah.” It came out quiet, she was still nervous, hesitant around her. The guilt was still there, even though Heejin was smiling at her like nothing had happened.

“Do you wanna just get a coffee instead?”

“Really?”

Heejin shrugged, “I’ve been late plenty of times.”

The relief hit her at once, how much she missed being herself around her friends and suddenly she was laughing and throwing her arms around the girl.

Heejin rested her chin on her head, “You’re paying though.”

They didn’t go to Primo’s. Heejin opted for somewhere with a drive-through and when she asked why, she looked her up and down, in her big Britney tee, her shorts covered with another of one Hyunjin’s jackets and Adidas slides. She let her off the hook and handed her phone over, Heejin had been joking but spending five dollars on a couple of coffees was the least she could do.

Once they were parked up, the school traffic in front of them letting up as it got closer to the first bell, everything that had gone unspoken rose to the surface.

“I’m sorry I kept asking you about it, if I knew- I just thought- it was all you talked about before and... I didn’t know.” Heejin stuttered, throwing up a hand listlessly at the end of it.

She shook her head the entire time Heejin was speaking, she couldn’t believe that she was the one apologizing. “It was my fault, you didn’t do anything.”

“When did you find out?”

She paused, the truth felt better than denial, but it didn’t stop it hurting, “A couple of weeks ago. I should’ve just told you, I’m an idiot-”

“You’re not, you’re definitely not…I should’ve realized, I shouldn’t have brought it up so much- “

“No.” Jiwoo interrupted, she couldn’t help smiling, it was disbelief mostly, that Heejin could possibly blame herself. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I guess I was the one who was thinking about it too much,” Heejin took a sharp breath, in through her teeth, “Stressful times.”

Heejin looked at her, offered her a smile and she noticed something in her that she hadn’t seen before, stress, anxiety. She’d been so consumed by herself, she'd forgotten other people existed, had lives and worries that didn’t involve her.

“I don’t think I’ve asked you how you are in forever.”

Heejin let out a short laugh, shaking her head, “It’s okay. You never asked me before either.”

She laughed again and Jiwoo would’ve shoved her if it wasn’t for the coffee, instead she narrowed her eyes, scrunched up her face with the angriest look she could find.

“Seriously, how are you? Tell me everything.”

“I’m the same… I cleaned the car.”

Jiwoo whipped round and could see the back seat for the first time, the carpet and the windows were cleaner than ever, it practically looked brand new.

“It’s amazing.”

“Thanks.”

Heejin’s phone buzzed, like a prompt from the outside world, piercing their bubble. Jiwoo checked the time; Heejin was firmly late for school now.

“Do they know where you are?”

She assumed it was the others. Heejin’s hesitation all but confirmed it.

“I just drove.”

She thought back to last night, to the plans they’d made before everything happened.

“I’m sorry about yesterday, for not being there.”

“It's fine, kinda got derailed anyway.”

She couldn’t imagine what she’d put them through. If it’d been the other way around, if one of them had disappeared, bailed on plans, wasn’t responding, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself.

“You know Hyunjin messaged me this morning, said she wanted to go Cold Stone after school. I know it’s winter but…if you want I can pick you up?” Heejin offered, there was no expectation, no force there, just patience.

She thought maybe it was too soon, she couldn’t just force things back to normal. But it was better to try then leave it. She didn't want to do that anymore. She wanted to see her friends.

“Yeah... maybe we could go back to mine after, have Friday there?”

Heejin tried to hide her surprise, “Is that okay? With your parents.”

She knew what Heejin was really asking, whether she actually wanted to, whether she could.

“Yeah, I want everyone there.”

Heejin picked up her phone, waved it, “You gotta ask us.”

That was the hard part. She took out her phone. _Take a breath and get through it._ The exhale came out shaky.

“It’s just a message.” Heejin reminded her gently.

And it was. Just a message. She hovered over the keyboard, her heart was in her ears. 

do _you guys wanna come to mine after school?_

She hit send.

A reply came in immediately.

_I’ll drive us._

Heejin smiled when she looked over and she hated that she was holding a coffee, it the was the only thing stopping her from wrapping her arms around her.

Hyunjin's reply came through next, just a simple: 

_coldstone._   
_yes._

“That means she’s excited.” Heejin explained.

That just left Yerim. She’d understand if she never wanted to speak to her again after how she treated her. But Yerim had never been the type to give up on someone, to give up on anything and her heart jumped when the reply came through.

_of course_  
 _of course  
_ _can’t wait_

She felt the tears, close to spilling over. Heejin patted her lightly on the shoulder and when she turned to her, tears brimming, knew exactly what to ask.

“You want a hug?”

She nodded, anything more and the water works would start.

“Just...Let me put my coffee down.” Heejin lowered it carefully and it disappeared between her seat and the door.

“Good?”

“Good.” Heejin nodded, bracing herself.

Jiwoo dove into the hug, wrapping her arms round Heejin's side, resting her head on her chest. They both laughed, it was awkward, and a little uncomfortable, but she didn’t care.

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”


	35. FRIDAY 16:05

It wasn’t the best weather for ice cream. It had been overcast since the morning; the sun trapped behind a thick grey wall. She prepared herself for the cold while the others were in school, layering a sweatshirt on a t-shirt and her coat on top of that. She couldn’t believe Hyunjin was only in a t-shirt when she climbed into the back seat of Heejin’s car, she just told her to wait and see. With the heater in full flow, it wasn’t long until she’d peeled off a layer too, catching Hyunjin’s raised brow - a silent _told you so_ \- as she bunched her coat up in front of her. The cycle repeated again when they stopped at Yerim’s, the questioning looks she sent all of them when she settled beside Jiwoo in her wool coat, the knowing looks they all sympathetically shot back and the resignation when she finally took her coat off just like everyone else.

It was safe, common ground, like strangers talking about the weather or freshman talking about classes. They were easing back to their regular selves but with so much to say to each other, for Jiwoo to say to them, things weren’t completely back to normal. They were all being tentative, talking around the conversation they needed to have.

At Cold Stone, Hyunjin marched up to the counter as soon as they were through the door. Yerim followed her inside, ordering with ease, the beauty of always getting the same thing. That left her and Heejin, as always, and they stood at an awkward middle distance from the counter, heads tilted up to the menu board. She decided to treat herself and Heejin ended up panic ordering, not wanting to keep everyone waiting.

She wanted to apologize right there, standing just outside the glass storefront. She steadied herself, ready to jump in but Heejin spoke first and suggested they park up by the beach, it was a better spot.

Cold weather brought harsh waves and the beach parking lot was surprisingly full. Yerim mentioned that they could use Primo’s and Heejin was headed that way when they found a practically empty lot about a mile out from the pier. The view wasn't great, battered concrete and unused volleyball nets, and she stayed quiet but she was grateful when Hyunjin set her ice cream on the dash and pulled her coat back on, urging them out of the car. She waited until Heejin nodded and Yerim conceded too, and rested her own pot in her lap, gathering up her coat.

They settled against the rocky wall, the toes of their feet just breaching the running path and watched a whole range of amateur and professional surfers try their best to better the angry ocean.

“Did you know it’s Cap-n Crunch, not Cap-tain Crunch, there’s no _T_ in it.” Heejin said between mouthfuls.

Hyunjin shook her head, “I don’t hear the difference.”

“Cap-n. Cap-tain. You don’t hear that?”

“No.”

“Cap-n… Cap-tain.”

“I don’t hear it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Cap-n- “

Yerim interrupted before it could go on any longer, “You’re missing out not getting sorbet. I’m telling you, mango sorbet, order it next time.”

Hyunjin looked over to her, she'd never been more serious, “Sorbet’s a palette cleanser.”

Yerim leaned forward, craning to look at Hyunjin directly. “No it’s not.”

Jiwoo's phone buzzed quietly, buried in her coat pocket. She almost wanted to leave it, happy to watch her friends go back and forth forever. She’d missed it. But she reminded herself she wasn’t ignoring people anymore or putting things off. She faced things now, immediately and head on. She slipped her phone out.

_if their parents are okay with it of course they can stay  
_ _do you want me and dad out of the house?_

“Your parents?” Heejin asked.

"They’re asking if we want them out of the house.”

“Tell them we do. Respectfully.” Yerim said and she tapped out her reply, telling them to treat themselves to something, a trip to the movie theatre or drinks with friends. They deserved it

They’d been so patient with her throughout the day, giving her all the time she needed when they eventually had _the_ _talk_. There never was one long discussion, it was more a series of short ones, in her room, in the living room, in the kitchen. They asked again whether she was really okay, whether it was just college and she told them again, she was working on feeling better and yes, it was just college.

Then it became a matter of talking through what she wanted to do next.

That was the big question and she told them all she could. That she needed time, that she wasn’t putting it off, but she wanted to think about it, really think about it. That she knew college was for her, assured them she wanted to go, but the where, maybe even the when, it might take a little time and she was okay with that.

“So, what do we wanna do later? What’s the plan?” Heejin asked and everyone’s eyes found her.

They were being careful with her. They hadn’t addressed anything yet, but it was just under the surface, in every delicate question, every reassuring smile.

“I don’t know, I just… I missed you and… I’m sorry, I’m really sorry for everything.” She could barely look at them, her focus dropped to her hands, to her ice cream slowly melting to a cold beige puddle.

Yerim was the one who spoke first, slow and calm, “Honestly Jiwoo… we were all relieved.”

She thought she hadn’t heard her right. She was sure she hadn't heard her right. It didn't make any sense. Mad, disappointed, stressed, worried she’d expected. She’d heard those words already from Heejin, from her parents. She understood them.

But relieved?

Relieved was the last word she expected to hear, especially from Yerim.

“We didn’t know what was happening and we thought it was something bad like you were sick or your Mom or Dad was or they were like splitting up or something,” Yerim laughed, the kind of laugh when there’s nothing more to say, the equivalent of throwing your hands up, “when I heard it was about Brown, I was just… glad _you_ were okay.”

“We all were.” Heejin added, Hyunjin nodding along beside her.

Her tears had been threatening to spill over since she’d climbed into Heejin’s backseat, since all four of them had reunited. Finally hearing their side, being so happy to have them back, so grateful they didn’t hate her, so angry at herself for leaving them in the dark, making them think she was in real trouble, she couldn’t hold back any longer.

Yerim wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tight, and she rested her chin on her shoulder, sinking into the soft wool.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“We all get it.” Heejin said.

“I should’ve just told you, I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot Jiwoo. No one is. Just... no more secrets. From anyone, okay? This our last year together and we’re not gonna spend it avoiding each other, I won’t allow it.”

Heejin and Hyunjin both agreed with, _ummhmms_ and she nodded, taking a breath to calm herself, sniffling a little, the tears seemed to be coming to an end.

Yerim gently leaned back, making sure to look her right in the eyes. “No more secrets.”

Her gaze was firm, she took friendship seriously, and looking back at her Jiwoo wondered whether she could tell there was only one thing on her mind, one person.

Where would she even start? What would she even say? How do you talk about something you don’t understand?

Once she knew, she’d tell her everything.

For now she nodded and gave Yerim her best smile, “No more secrets.”

“Then I want to confess something.” They both turned to the side. It was Hyunjin who spoke up, serious as ever. She took a breath, set herself, looking between all three of them then casting her eyes to the floor.

“I did hear the difference earlier,” she looked at Heejin, “between the two words. I just wanted to see how long I could make you explain it.”

“We were being serious.” Yerim dropped her head onto Jiwoo’s shoulder, exhausted by the behavior.

Heejin just sighed and ran a hand through her hair. It was everything they'd come to expect from Hyunjin.

“You can walk home.”


	36. SATURDAY 18:25

Jiwoo had always wondered what it would be like to live in Paris, to wake up and have the Seine so close to you, to be a walk away from seeing the Eiffel Tower, standing higher than anything else on horizon. To live in London, stand on Westminster Bridge on an overcast day, the Thames beneath you and Big Ben chiming on the hour. To live in Seoul, cycle to the Han river at night and see the lights of the city through the darkness. Even New York, at Christmas time, everyone trying to keep steady on the crowded ice rink, the Rockefeller Christmas Tree making the floor dance with the red, blue, yellow of its string lights.

She wondered if they were things that only left you in awe if you didn’t live there. If there was an eighteen year old Parisian out there who lived their life with the Eiffel Tower as a background, a part of the furniture. Those thoughts always came to mind when they decided to go to the pier. She was certain she would never get sick of it.

They parked up at Primo’s, it was just a couple of blocks away and Yerim looped her arm through Jiwoo's as they walked, back in their winter coats, even warmer now, wrapped in scarves too. Heejin and Hyunjin were just behind them, lost in quiet conversation.

She’d locked herself away in her room for so long, she was determined to take everything in. The cars passing by, headlights on full beam, illuminating the dark roads with streaks of yellow and orange. The tables outside every store-front, filled with families and friends under awnings and behind glass barriers that came up to their shoulders, giving them the illusion of privacy. The streetlights glowing like stars, guiding their path, and the clear sky fading to night, a haze of dark blue highlighted by the faintest white, the last clouds retreating.

It got busier as they made the long, narrow descent down to the pier, Yerim weaved them in and out of the crowds, the ferris wheel just peeking into view, shining neon blue, its lights travelling up and down each arm, dancing, bursting into different patterns. Once their feet hit the rickety wooden planks, the congestion eased up and Hyunjin and Heejin caught up to them.

"She wants to go to the arcade." Heejin spoke for Hyunjin, who nodded with approval beside her.

They agreed to a ten-dollar limit, so they didn’t all go broke on the claw machine again. Yerim broke away once they collected their quarters, her phone buzzing, she promised she’d be back but the call was important. Jiwoo followed Heejin as she followed Hyunjin to _House of the Dead_ and they stood either side of her as she took up the lone plastic handgun and slotted in her quarters. Jiwoo was very aware she wasn’t the best person to have at your side if you were trying to concentrate, only because she couldn’t stop her reactions. She agreed to pay for Hyunjin’s second try when a zombie came out of nowhere, letting out a loud undead scream and she shoved Hyunjin so hard she practically knocked the weapon out of her hand. She was a better partner than Heejin though, who panicked and yelled constant direction at Hyunjin no matter how much she told her not to, _reloadreloadreload you have to reload, onyourleftonyourleftonyourleft, there’s one over there!_

By the third try they both agreed to shut up, and Heejin settled beside her, still engrossed as Hyunjin made her way through the grounds of the abandoned mansion all over again.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about college.” That got Heejin’s attention and she turned to look at her, confused as ever.

“Really? Are you not done with it… at least for a little while?”

She should be, she definitely should be, but with a blank slate, the possibility to go where she wanted, do what she wanted, she couldn’t help thinking about the kind of person she could be.

“I’ve been thinking about music.”

“Studying it?”

"Yeah."

Heejin paused, like she was running the scenario in her mind. “Music major?”

“What'd you think?”

“I mean, is it what you want?”

“I think so... and if it fails-”

“-So what?”

She nudged Heejin with a smile. She wasn’t quite there yet, she would never be as relaxed as Heejin, but she was definitely less afraid.

“If it fails… it's not the end of the world.”

“True.”

The handgun rattled, Hyunjin slumped over in frustration. The _Game Over_ countdown began as she fished more quarters from her pocket. She was about to spend so much more than ten dollars on this game.

“Woah. Look at that, Hye, Hye, Hye, Hye, Hye.” Heejin pointed to the screen, to the high scores, where every slot was taken with the same three letters.

Hyunjin dropped more quarters in, determined, “I’m gonna knock them off.”

“Good luck.”

She took the gun up again and with the stakes higher, Heejin drifted back to her side.

“Are they still playing?” Yerim arrived back, a little flustered and linked her arm through Jiwoo's. “Are you playing?”

“No.”

“Then come with me.”

She practically dragged her away, Heejin and Hyunjin too engrossed in the game to notice. Heejin had pulled even closer, put an arm on her shoulder, the other nervously pointing where to shoot. _Theretheretheretherethere._

“Where are we going?”

They walked back onto the pier and the cycles of sugary sweet eight-bit music, the hyper intense sound effects of each arcade game, all fighting for attention, faded into the light hum of conversation and Christmas music, faintly playing through small tinny speakers. _All I want for Christmas is you..._

It was late enough now that the sky was almost a black slate.

“I just ended things with two guys.” Yerim announced, proudly, as they rounded a vendor planted right in the middle of the walkway, charging five dollars for glow in the dark friendship bracelets.

She laughed, out of surprise mostly. And she was impressed. Two guys. Go Yerim. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. You know, I’m sick of being messed around by useless boys who say they care about you one minute and won’t acknowledge you the next. I told myself I was done with that.”

She couldn’t help her smile. She’d really missed her. 

“This year is about my friends, I wanna create memories together before we all leave… So I told them to get lost.”

Yerim really was incredible. But she was also just Yerim. She was eighteen and balancing school, guys, dance, putting pressure on herself to constantly create special moments for them all. 

“We’re not splitting up.”

“But things’ll be different, you can’t deny that.”

She was right. Even if Jiwoo stayed put for the next year, Hyunjin was leaving for certain and Yerim would be travelling all over, wherever Fusion took her.

They walked by a group trying to organize for a photo beneath the sign for _Pacific Park_ , radiating a pastel yellow and blue except for one letter, the _I_ had gone out _,_ so really it said _Pac-fic Park_.

The end of the pier was quieter now that it was too dark for pictures. They walked right to the edge, up to the metal bars. The ocean was a mirror of the sky, the water only visible in the reflections of the pier’s neon lights, wavy streaks of bright blues, reds and greens.

They’d left the chaos behind, now it just them and the sea, washing gently on to shore.

“I want this year to be good.” Yerim was resolute.

“Me too.”

“And I definitely got too stressed about it before. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“You didn’t.” She did that to herself.

In the mess of withholding, of fear, of isolation, she didn’t do too much logical thinking. It was impossible to be angry at anyone. If anything she was grateful. Grateful for everyone that had been patient with her. Everyone.

She looked out into the darkness, like she had so many times recently, always feeling hopeless, like she had no one to turn to. Now she had hope, now she had someone.

“You said no more secrets before.”

Yerim was watching her, cautious, trying her best to hide her concern. She tried to find the right words, the memories flashed and flickered. Glares in the hallway, warm eyes from the driver's seat, huddled on the roof, laid out on the beach, a delicate hand tilting her chin.

"I like someone...I think." 

Yerim was quiet. It surprised her. Whenever relationships came up before she always got so excited, so eager to know every detail. But here she was, doing the complete opposite, giving her all the time in the world.

“You’re not sure?”

“I don't know."

"You talk right, this isn't some unrequited thing?"

She smiled, "Yeah, we talk," it was different flashes now, teasing eyes, slow smiles, "is it normal for someone to be one way when they're with you-"

"-And different around everyone else?"

"Yeah."

“Have you said anything?”

“She knows.” She was sure she knew, she had to, no one kisses someone unless they’re sure that person likes them.

“You know... both of the boys were like that, saying one thing and doing another. They would be messaging me at one in the morning but at school it was like we didn’t know each other. You can't let people mess with you like that.”

"What if that's just who they are?"

"What indecisive? Slutty?"

"No-"

"It's a whole other conversation if you just wanna hook up with this girl."

"No-no...no."

"So this is feelings?"

She took a breath. It was just stressful now but the question did make her think, if she knocked on her door, offered her one night, one hour together, would she take it? Would it be enough?

“Jiwoo?” She looked over and as patient and caring as Yerim had been, it was also undeniable that this type of talk brought her the most joy and the knowing smile she had kept hidden finally emerged, “Can we stop pretending this isn’t about Ha Sooyoung?”

Jiwoo laughed, it was all she could do, laugh joylessly at herself, at her mess, at the fact Yerim had read her so easily.

She laughed too, “It is right?"

Jiwoo didn't say a thing, she didn't have to.

"Listen, I don’t really know her… But from what I’ve heard... You have so much going for you, we both do, we’re smart and we’re funny and we’re both cute- we can do anything, if she doesn’t realize that, she’s not worth your time... Right?"

“Right.”

“Am I helping? Do you feel better?”

"Yeah, yeah. I’m actually kind of excited."

"About Ha Sooyoung?"

"No. About starting over, it's exciting."

She’d spent a long time, too long, attached to a version of herself she’d become convinced was the real her. But it was just this shallow stuff she was clinging on to. She didn't see that it was the truth underneath that mattered. For everyone who saw someone who was top of her class, that was because she was hardworking. For everyone who thought she’d get into an Ivy, that was because she believed in herself. For everyone who called her energetic and loud that’s because when she felt something she expressed it, she was truthful and open, she didn’t bottle it up behind judgmental stares. She’d lost all that when she got rejected, thought it was something to be ashamed of, she’d buried herself and it had made her miserable, except in brief moments, except when she was with Sooyoung.

She hadn’t realized it then, how much Sooyoung had helped her without even knowing and she wondered what might have happened if they weren’t paired together. She wouldn’t have had those moments to breathe, the welcome distractions and maybe it would’ve forced everything to forefront sooner, maybe in her misery she would’ve told someone or maybe she would’ve spiraled somewhere even worse. She’d never know. But she was certain now that she was glad it happened. She didn’t regret it. For all the hurt it caused, she only felt that hurt because being with Sooyoung was the closest she came to being herself, her real self and she knew now that meant sometimes things would be difficult, sometimes she might feel awful, but it’s so much better than hiding away.

She was ready to start again, to take those foundations, of hard work, of belief, of openness, of kindness, of joy and build something new. And it didn’t scare her, not one bit.

Yerim rested a head on her shoulder.

“You know it’s weird, you can countdown from ten and make changes to your life whenever you want but we only do it once a year.”

"We change all the time."

“Yeah but the countdown makes it different, it makes it special, I think we should countdown all the time."

“Whenever we want to change something?"

"Yeah."

"Even the TV?"

"Yeah."

"The radio?"

"Yeah. Anyone can do it, whenever they want."

"Just start at ten..."

"Yeah, and when they reach zero-"

"They could change."

"Yeah, be whatever, do whatever."

All it takes is a countdown. 

“Ten.”

She watched the horizon, it was quiet. The sea hissed as it spread onto the shore and she thought about her own tide, how she would control it now, not let it control her.

Yerim joined in, “Nine.”

“Eight.” She rested her head on Yerim’s gently and she thought about her and Heejin and Hyunjin. Her best friends. She would be there for them now, whatever they needed, whenever they needed it, she loved them more than anything.

“Seven.”

“Six.” If she listened hard enough, she could still hear the Christmas music playing from the pier. She thought about how when she had nothing else, she had music. That didn’t necessarily mean it was destined to be a huge part of her future, but she wanted to explore it, and she would see where it would take her.

“Five.”

“Four.” They'd be back here, in a similar spot, if not the exact same one, when they finished school for Winter Break. She thought about the all the work she’d been avoiding. She had the strength and the ability to finish it on time and she would, even her partnered project.

“Three.”

“Two.” She thought about Sooyoung. She would message her, and they would study, genuinely study, and she would treat her like she would treat anyone else. She wouldn’t make judgments about her based off rumors, she wouldn’t divide her up into different colors and think that meant she could predict the kind of personality to expect. She wouldn’t expect anything from her. She would just let Sooyoung be Sooyoung, and she would let herself be Jiwoo.

And she was excited to be Jiwoo, she was happy to be Jiwoo, she was proud to be Jiwoo.

“One.”

She paused and gave Yerim a nudge, hoping she would understand what it meant. She wanted her to say it too. She wanted to look out at the ocean, at the sky, at the stars just emerging take a breath, and finish the countdown together.

Yerim nodded. She was ready and so was Jiwoo.

“Zero.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that's the end of act two. we're gonna take a break from jiwoo for a little while. thanks for reading.


End file.
